


Blood Bound (Convergence Series Book 2) (COMPLETE)

by JMRiddles



Series: Convergence Series [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alpha Males, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Boys, Blood Magic, Demons, Dragon shifter, Dragons, F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Magic-Users, Mates, Past Relationship(s), Relationship(s), Romance, Shifter, Unrequited Love, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-04 05:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 125,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12162273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMRiddles/pseuds/JMRiddles
Summary: After many years of hardship and separation, Halea has become Varg's mate, and life should be perfect, but it isn't. She can't escape the feeling that the Chaos Dimension will someday return, and with Lord Anshar gone, who will protect them? Though no longer a priestess, she cannot ignore the call of the goddess that is warning her of the storm ahead. When the tears return, she soon discovers that Lord Anshar is alive, but he is not the same; the Chaos has driven him mad and now he seeks to kill every priestess and claim Halea for his own. Varg was not able to defeat the dragon therian the last time they battled, but now he must find a way to master his sword, the Fang, or risk losing Halea forever. Varg's worst nightmare may become a reality when the Swordmaster Crow foretells of Halea's death. Together they must find a way to defeat the Dragon Lord before he summons another convergence that will bring an end to their world.





	1. A Voice in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 

Darkness all around. Invisible claws were tearing into his flesh. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils. Stripped of his armor, his cloak, and his sword, they tortured him. Yet the torture of the flesh was nothing compared to what was happening to his mind. No physical pain could compare to it, and he shouted into the Chaos until he thought his throat would bleed.

Images flashed before his eyes that weren’t really there. Memories ancient and forgotten forced to resurface, and then their eyes. He saw himself killing them over and over again. Forced to kill, forced to serve, forced to live only to continue a cycle that never ended. Never any hope. Never any freedom. Only death and despair and eternal loneliness.

So alone.

Trapped.

Why had he been born to live such a life? Why had he been cursed to bear the burden? Why him and him alone?

There was something in the darkness with him. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. He could feel it all around him, tearing into his mind, into the darkest depths of his soul, laying bare every fear, every secret thought, every forbidden desire.

_Her._

Her eyes. Her smile. She had wanted him to be happy. She alone saw his suffering, and she alone saw him as more than just a servant. She had seen him as a man.

But he was not an ordinary man, and she had given her love to another; someone who could love her in return.

An intense pain threatened to tear apart his very soul, and he prayed for the cold embrace of death to finally take him, but the Chaos would not let him die.

Then he saw it again, her eyes filled with tears as he had stood before her, his sword in his hand. He had never willingly disobeyed before. He had never refused to do his duty, but he couldn’t do it. Not to her. He couldn’t do any of it anymore. Because no matter how many sacrifices were made, nothing ever changed, nothing ever got better. He was never free.

When he had tasted her lips, he had allowed himself to imagine, if only for a moment, that she was his. His and his alone. If he had to die, he wanted her kiss to be the last thing he experienced.

_You want to be free._

A voice whispered in the darkness.

_All your long life, you have served the Goddess, and what have you accomplished? She has given you nothing._

The voice ripped through his mind, tearing deep and forcing itself to be heard no matter how hard he tried to shut it out.

_You will never be free. You will always be alone because you fight the inevitable. In the beginning, there was only one dimension, but the gods tore the universe asunder to make worlds and realms of their own desires. Now the dimensions are many, but it was never meant to be so. These demons only exist because they are born of the chaos that happens when the true balance of the convergence is denied. Even their most abundant swarms could be wiped out in an instant if only the universe could be returned to its original state of existence. Their entire evil race eradicated. The convergence must be allowed to fulfill its purpose. The universe must be healed. All the darkness, pain, death, and destruction can be brought to an end if only these shattered dimensions can be reunited. Everything would be as it should be, as it should have always been, but you will not let it be so. Why do you resist?_

“Lies!” he shouted against the voice that tore through his mind. "Who are you?"

_You stand against the forces of nature. The convergence brings balance, and balance brings freedom. I know you want to be free more than anything else. I can see it inside of you. I see everything in your heart, even her._

He gritted his teeth as he tried to force the voice out of his mind when a vision passed before his eyes.

Their world; green, new, remade - perfect. No war, no demons or tears or threats of destruction, only peace. And then he saw her. She was not dressed as a priestess; she was dressed like a queen - his queen. Instead of carrying a spear, in her arms she cradled a small bundle from which tiny hands reached up to tangle in her hair. When she looked at him, his heart thundered in his chest. Her eyes were filled with so much love, so much happiness. Without even thinking he could feel himself moving towards her. When he was near, she smiled up at him, and he could scarcely breathe. He reached out to caress her face, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.

“Anshar…” he heard her whisper as he leaned down to taste her lips.

Then she was gone, and once again he was left bleeding in the darkness.

_It is time for the world to be reborn. Tiamet does not want to let go of her creation, she does not want a world remade without her, a world that does not need her or her servants, or a people who do not worship her. She and the other gods who tampered with the natural order of the universe are the ones who wrought this Chaos. And for this, she would let you spend an eternity alone - a slave._

_I can set you free._

He could feel the madness of the Chaos all around him and the emptiness and pain.

“What do you want of me?”

_Kill all those who are blessed by the Dragon Goddess. There can be no more sacrifices. No one must stand in the way of the natural order._

“Never!” he shouted, and in his mind, he wondered why this entity would even keep him alive. If it truly wanted to end the sacrifices, destroying him would ensure that.

_The world cannot be remade without you. You are the only one powerful enough to find and eliminate them all._

The voice replied to his thoughts. It was in his head, and when he struggled against the will of the _other_ , for a brief moment, he was allowed to connect with the dark entity and see within.

There was a vague emotion mixed in among the scattered thoughts and warped images, an all-consuming drive to remove any possible threat, and a fear that Tiamet would use the blessed to try to find a way to stop the dimensional convergence, or perhaps another who might wield the Strength of the Divine. None could be allowed to live who would try to interfere with the natural order of the universe, and he could feel the will of the _other_ pressing into his mind; insisting there was no other way.

_You would have killed them eventually. Isn’t this a sacrifice for the greater good; a far better sacrifice, one that can actually see an end to the rift between our two dimensions? Their lives are a small price to pay. How many more would you let die by trying to prolong that what must inevitably happen? How much longer must the people of your world suffer and live in fear? How many more lives must be lost to appease the god's desire for power over that which was never meant to be theirs?_

He thought of _her_ again, but the voice in the Chaos saw into his mind.

_Her life may be spared – for you. Everything you have ever wanted can be yours. Serve me, remake the world, and I will set you free._

* * *

Thunder shook the sky and birds took flight to escape the storm, but there were no clouds. An eerie purple light began to swirl and pulsate and grow deep within the forest.

A lone figure emerged from the Chaos, clad in menacing black armor and carrying a holy sword, on his back, a cloak of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: It begins! MWAHAHAHAHAHA
> 
> Welcome to book 2 of the convergence series. I am planning to self-publish this series (book 1 has already been self-published). New chapters go up every other Friday. Yeah, I know that's snail's pace compared to my upload schedule with Torn Apart, but I am trying to work ahead. It took me a little over 3 months to write Torn Apart and a little over 6 to edit it, so I do generally work pretty fast. I'm not one of those authors that make you wait years or decades for new installments in a series. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this first chapter. Are you excited? Lord Anshar is about to take a walk on the dark side MWAHAHAHAHA (I gotta calm down on the evil laughs today).


	2. A Powerful Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: What? A sex scene already? Well, you know newlyweds/newlymateds.

The leaves were changing color, and she could hear them crunching beneath her feet as she walked in the chilly morning air. That was when she noticed the birds had stopped singing. Everything in the forest had grown eerily quiet, and she knew she was being hunted. Why now? She hadn't gone very far. She had taken it upon herself to gather medicinal roots for their healer, and she had thought for sure she'd be safe.

Her heart was pounding against her ribs, and she knew she had to run. Throwing down her basket, she took off through the trees, but it was no use.

She screamed as she was attacked from behind and thrown to the ground.

She was pinned at his mercy as she tried to fight, but it was useless.

"Varg, you mangy wolf!"

He laughed and grinned wickedly. He couldn't resist himself, he had always loved startling her by appearing suddenly, and she had not yet learned to master the ability to block their bond the way he had. She was easy prey in such a state.

"Just admit that I'm faster," he teased with a growl as he looked down into her beautiful hazel green eyes. He could sense her mood shifting from annoyance to desire, and he smirked in satisfaction. She was still breathing heavily beneath him, and the fun hadn't even begun.

"Never! You cheated! I'll kick your ass as soon as I figure out how this bond thing works," she argued, ever stubborn, but he could sense the last of her anger dissipating.

He released the mental block that had hidden his end of their bond from her, and she was swept away in the tidal wave of his emotions. So much love, so much desire, it overwhelmed her until there was nothing she wanted more than him.

The moment he felt the undeniable reciprocation of her love, his lips came crashing down on hers.

There was no resisting him now, and before long he had her down on her knees panting and sweating despite the cool autumn breezes.

He didn't want her to learn how to block her end of their bond from him. Ever since they had become mated, he had unfettered access to her emotions. He could feel everything from her, and while that came with knowing her moments of sadness, it also allowed him to know the undeniable depth of her love as well.

She arched her back and moaned as he pounded into her without mercy. He growled with lust as the scent of her arousal overpowered him. She was so wet and so tight, and the beast inside of him wanted her so badly he could feel his fangs growing at just the thought of tasting her blood.

He was always struggling against the wolf within. He had hoped making her his mate would finally calm the howling of his deeper instincts, but they had only become stronger. She was his, and he wanted her constantly. He wanted her love. He wanted her body. He wanted to spend every moment of every day with her, and only for her would he ever curse the burden of being an alpha. Every time he was forced to be apart from her, he was searching for her across their bond, reaching out with his emotions until he could sense her. Her open end of the bond was the only thing soothing him enough to keep him grounded for the moments when he couldn't be by her side.

He could sense everything, even the way she felt when he was deep inside of her, and he knew she was growing close. He leaned over her, supporting himself on one arm as he snaked his other arm around her and teased her swollen clit. His lips moved up her shoulder, her hair falling aside, revealing her mating mark - his mark.

There was no holding back the beast after that, and his fangs pierce her flesh; reopening her mark and drawing blood as she screamed out in climax. He released his grip on her mark to let out a snarl of satisfaction as he came inside of her.

"I love you. You're mine," he breathed as he wrapped himself around her body which was still panting and sweating despite the chill of the season. He slowly ran his tongue over the fresh bite wound to remove the last of the blood and to help it heal.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"I told you to stop apologizing," she said as she rolled over to face him. She could sense pain and guilt coming from him through their bond whenever he let his beast get the best of him. He was always trying to hold back, afraid he would hurt her, afraid that because she was human, she wouldn't understand.

Lycans could be quite aggressive during sex and love bites, bruises, and scratches from razor-sharp claws were just the name of the game. Sharing Varg's life-force allowed her to not only remain immortal by his side but to share in his rapid healing ability. She could already feel the bite fading.

"Am I going to have to spend our whole eternity together telling you that I can take it and to quit treating me like some damn delicate flower?" she said with a smirk, and she could feel him growing calmer through the bond.

"I just can't help myself when I'm around you."

"Then don't. I love you, Varg, all of you, even the wolf. I've always loved you exactly the way you are, and besides…it's not so bad," she said with a wicked grin and a gleam in her eye that instantly sent all of his blood rushing south again.

* * *

 They were nearly back to the den, and Varg could sense guilt wash over her.

"What's wrong?"

"I promised Batsuba these roots hours ago. I hope she won't be angry; it's nearly midday."

"No one is allowed to be angry with any mate of mine," he growled, but Halea only laughed.

"You should know Batsuba better than that. That woman's got a tongue like a lash, even with you," and she watched a pained smile pass over his face because it was all too true. Batsuba was the only person in their pack that could get away with the sort of behavior that would put anyone else in jeopardy of an ass beating. She was an elder and a healer, and there was no denying the respect she commanded.

"Besides, it's your fault," she added.

"What?"

"You couldn't give me one morning to myself."

"I don't remember you complaining," and he struggled not to laugh as she shot him a death glare and he could tell she wanted to knock the shit-eating grin off his face.

"Be smug all you want now, but I finally had someone explain how to put up a block on this bond, so you're not always going to be able to know what I'm up to. At least once I get the hang of it better."

Of course, she knew he would guess it was Batsuba that had blabbed, but she didn't feel like incriminating the elder.

"Don't," he barked, and his face had turned deathly serious, his uncontrollable anger hit her like a tornado across their bond.

"Oh, no you don't! I may be your mate, but it's not fair that I can't ever have a moment of privacy anymore. It was bad enough before, what with that bloodhound nose of yours, and the fact that you can hear a mouse fart from forty miles. What are you so worried about? You know I'd never keep anything important from you."

He stopped her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Being able to feel you is the only thing keeping me sane when I can't be by your side. Don't you understand that I need to protect you? You tend to be stubborn when you think you can handle things on your own."

She wanted to argue that she _could_ handle herself on her own just fine. She had lived through the perils of being a priestess for years before she had returned to him. She was just as skilled as a warrior as he was, but she had hidden being in danger from him in the past to spare his feelings, and now he was hyper-paranoid that someday she would again.

"Varg, there's nothing to be worried about anymore. The last of the demons were slain months ago. We haven't seen a single tear, and besides, Lord Anshar is gone, and I'm not a priestess anymore."

He could sense a pang of sadness pass through her.

"You still miss being a priestess."

"It's not so much that. For all that I can tell, Lord Anshar's sacrifice has finally ridden us of the Chaos Dimension, and I'm not sorry to see that gone. It's just…I've always had a purpose. I'm not sure what that is anymore."

"Your purpose is to reign beside me as my alpha bitch. My pack is your pack now."

"Yeah, you do all the reigning, and I do all the bitching."

He couldn't help but laugh at her snarky comment. She was so perfect for him in every way, and she always knew just how to soften him up.

At last, he sighed. "Just promise me that when you do figure out how to put up a block, you won't put yourself in danger. It'll help me sleep at night."

"I thought I did enough to put you to sleep at night," she said with a smirk.

"Besides that."

"Fine, I won't put myself in danger. Not like there's any more danger anyway, things have been downright boring lately."

"Boring? Well, you won't like winter then, just you, me, alone in our cave, keeping each other warm…wait…how the hell is that boring again?"

"Well, I like the idea of you keeping me warm all winter, but I am not looking forward to spending so much time in that cave. I feel like the earth is closing in on me. It wouldn't be so bad if a cave could have windows."

"Is that one of the things that have been bothering you at night?" he asked, knowing that sometimes she would wake up from nightmares and lie there feeling dark emotions beside him.

"One of the things," she replied. Memories of the first convergence would always haunt her nightmares. She could never forget the horror of watching the city of Ruinac being destroyed and the death of her mother, but she also had other sorrows. She missed her grandfather, and she wanted to see him again, but she dreaded the inevitable return to Antherose. She still occasionally received messages from Mama Dragon's falcon, asking her to return to the castle. She was the last person to see Lord Anshar alive.

"Then I'll build you a house," he said.

"A house?"

"A tree house. A real one. Don't think I haven't noticed you admiring Batsuba's tree-dwelling. I can make you an even better one. You once told me you'd live in a tree if you could," he said, remembering that day of their childhood as though it was only yesterday and he smiled wistfully. "I happen to be pretty good at it," he added boastfully, but it was true. He had taught her how to build tree forts when they had been children, and since helping his pack reclaim their homelands, he had personally helped to rebuild many of the tree-dwellings that had been destroyed by the disaster of the last convergence.

Halea's face lit up at the idea of having their very own tree house. She had always dreamed of actually being able to live in a tree.

"We can build it together!" she exclaimed, and she watched as Varg nearly doubled over in laughter.

"You better let me manage it on my own. Remember your crappy tree fort?"

She scowled at him. "Well, it held up," she argued.

"That's because I snuck in there when you weren't around and fixed all your mistakes. I kept it to myself. You'd of bawled like a baby if you knew I interfered," he said as he continued to laugh, a laugh which only got louder when she took a playful swing at him, which he easily ducked.

She couldn't be mad at him, though. He had done it to help her and to spare her feelings, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was an excellent carpenter, and she was a terrible one. But she wasn't about to tell him that as he was already way too cocky for his own good.

"Not sure if I can build one before winter comes, but the trader will be here soon. I can at least get all the building supplies I'll need so that I can start as soon as spring arrives."

"Trader?" she asked.

"We don't need much, but there are some things we'll trade for with other therians. Broc is a badger therian, and one of the few other therians that we allow anywhere near our territory. He comes twice a year in the fall and spring."

Halea vaguely remembered Varg mentioning that lycans would sometimes trade with other therians and a thought crossed her mind.

"Will he bring fabric? I can't keep dressing like something that I'm not," she asked. She still primarily wore her white priestess robe, which she could both mend and clean with spells. But she was no longer a priestess, and it felt wrong to continue to wear such garments. Varg had offered to give her whatever clothes she wanted that his people generally worse, which was usually leather and fur, but she didn't want to pretend to be a wolf either. She had always dressed like a tomboy when she was a young girl, but she had spent the past several years growing comfortable with her robe, and it wasn't a style she was entirely ready to give up.

"I believe so," he replied. It didn't matter to him how she chose to dress. She was beautiful in everything, and especially nothing.

"I don't have anything to trade," she said, her face suddenly looking crestfallen, and he could sense disappointment seeping through their bond. What stipend she had earned as a priestess was still in Antherose being kept safe by her grandfather.

"We have plenty to trade. I'll show you what I mean when we get back," he said with a knowing smile, and he could sense her curiosity.

One of the hunters immediately greeted Varg when they returned to the den and announced the news that of a herd of bison was spotted in the lowlands of their territory. Halea didn't much care for hunting unless it was hunting demons, and they were all gone. She could manage with small game, she had often lived off the land when she had roamed as a priestess, but she had dreadful luck with big game hunting, and it made her feel terribly useless that she couldn’t do more to contribute towards the pack.

Everyone seemed to have a job or a purpose. Everyone had something to contribute, and she felt like such a worthless freeloader.

She could manage with small game, she had often lived off the land when she had roamed as a priestess, but she had terrible luck with big game hunting, and it made her feel terribly useless that she couldn't do more to contribute towards the pack.

Everyone seemed to have a job or a purpose. Everyone had something to contribute, and she felt like such a terrible freeloader.

She left Varg to manage his alpha responsibilities and headed towards Batsuba's tree-dwelling.

When Halea finally entered the old healer's home, she found her gazing out the window, a profound look of sadness in her black eyes.

“It’s about time,” grumbled Batsuba, who suddenly snapped to attention as the young woman offered her the basket of roots.

Halea watched as the she-wolf stopped and sniff the air, and she immediately blushed.

"I see Varg delayed you."

Her face turned beet red, and she cursed the lack of privacy of living with lycans. She was mortified to discover the day after their mating that almost every lycan in the den had heard their lovemaking with their powerful sense of hearing. Varg didn't mind, in fact, he found her embarrassment amusing.

"What? There's nothing to be ashamed of; you're my mate. People are always doing it around here. I can hear a couple going at it somewhere right now," he had said with a laugh, and she had wished the earth would have opened up and swallowed her.

She had completely given up on washing away the scent evidence of their activities as there are only so many baths a person can take in a day. Varg had assured her nobody cared and that it would be odd if his scent weren't on her at all times. Lycans expected mated couples to make love often, and while she had been embarrassed at first, she was getting used to the idea that lycans just had a casual disregard for what couples did together.

She determined that whatever tree they chose to build their home in; it would be as far away from prying ears as possible.

"I'll practice putting up a block tonight, maybe after that, he won't be able to interrupt my errands as often. Plus I know my nightmares have been keeping him up. I'd at least like to keep him from worrying so much."

"That will never end as long as you're mated, especially to an alpha," replied Batsuba as she began boiling water.

Halea watched as the elder spread the roots out on a large cutting board and sorted through them meticulously. A gentle breeze blew in through the open windows wafting around the scent of the many herbs that were strung up on racks to dry.

"Hmph, well, you did good. You do seem to have a knack for identifying the correct roots and herbs."

"Mama Dragon taught me. When I was a priestess, I had to know how to heal myself. It's not like there was anyone else around most of the time. Can I help you prepare them?" Halea had always been good with medicine. She had learned how to make scent masking potion from Varg at an early age, and since then she had always found herbal medicine and the healing arts to be a subject of interest.

Batsuba merely nodded and passed Halea a sharp cutting knife.

"This Dragon Mother; was she a healer?" asked Batsuba as she prepared more herbs while Halea peeled and diced the roots. Batsuba had met Mama Dragon only once, briefly, but she had had no time to converse with the woman, who had used her priestess powers to purge the evil from the wounds left behind by dark weapons.

"Kind of. In her old country, she had to know a lot about medicine because there were always wars and people in need. She even had to fight therians on occasion. For them, she'd use poisons. She still carries a dart gun for protection, even though she said this side of the sea is safer than where she came from."

Batsuba had seen Halea demonstrate her skill with tending injuries and basic medicine time and again. At first she had not liked Halea's interference, but eventually, she had grown to accept the young woman's help, especially when there were too many for her to care for on her own. Batsuba had not had an apprentice since Varg's mother died and it was clear to her that the human longed to earn her keep among the pack.

Halea looked up from her work when she heard the elder sigh.

“I guess you’ll do.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you’re not a priestess anymore. You’re certainly no great hunter. You don’t know any crafts or trades. And gods knowing, we don’t care for your cooking.”

Halea gave the she-wolf an angry glare. “What is this; your crappy attempt to cheer me up?”

She was all too aware of her failings and worthlessness to the pack since she was no longer a priestess; she didn't appreciate having the old woman rub it in.

"But…" she paused for dramatic effect. "You are good at healing. Well, adequate, I suppose, you could be better."

Perhaps it was from spending far too much time with Varg, but she let out a pathetic human growl at the healer's backhanded compliment.

"I need an apprentice, Halea," concluded Batsuba with a sly smile. "You want a purpose, well, let me give you one."

Halea was shocked into silence.

"That is unless you don't like medicine," continued the elder, who was having far too much fun taunting the young woman in front of her.

"No…I mean, yes. Yes, I like medicine. Really? You'll teach me? You mean it?" she practically shouted as she jumped up, the paring knife slipping in her hand and slicing into the side of her finger.

"Oh, well, now you've done it!" grumbled Batsuba, and she braced herself as they both felt heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs to her home.

"Halea, what happened? Are you okay?" shouted Varg as he barged in and immediately zeroed in on his mate's bleeding hand.

"Your mate's a clumsy oaf, and so are you! Now, out! Both of you! I have work to do," commanded the elder as she shooed the alpha pair out of her home.

Once outside, Varg inspected her hand, but the small cut was already nearly sealed.

"Sorry, I got a little excited. She's going to train me. She's asked me to be her apprentice," explained Halea as they walked past the common area.

Varg could sense her happiness beaming like sunshine through the bond, and he couldn’t help smiling at her joy.

"You'd be a perfect apprentice. You've always been good with healing," he said. Suddenly he smiled a mischievous sort of smile. "Well, now that I've pried you away from her, there was something I mentioned wanting to show you."

"What, again?"

"No, not that," he laughed. "Come with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: For everyone who loves sexy scenes. You're welcome. This one was a tad mild compared to some of the ones I've written in Book 1, but I assure you if you prefer more explicitly; there will be more sex scenes happening later. MWAHAHAHA I just didn't want to dive straight into hardcore smut on only the second chapter. For everyone who loves Batsuba, she's back in all her crotchity glory. Next chapter we'll get a look at what Halea's life is like among the Lycans, but if you know my pacing by now, we're building up to something MWAHAHAHAHA. As always thank you to every one of my readers. If you enjoyed this chapter please please please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys!


	3. The Message

They passed several gigantic statues of ancient lycan warriors that were carved out of solid rock as he dragged her up the mountain path, further than she had ever gone before.

The western lycan territory and Varg's den never seemed to run out of surprises. Varg had spent the past several months showing her everything he had always dreamed of sharing with her ever since they were children, but he had never been able to because back then they weren't allowed to be together. He had taken her to secluded lakes, majestic waterfalls, lush fields of flowers, and even a natural hot spring that the lycans used as a spa. Seeing him excited to share such wonders with her pleased her even more than the places he took her because she could always feel how much he loved her in those moments.

His smile was infectious as she let him drag her up the mountain face and the more curiosity he sensed from her, the more excitement she felt from him.

There was no point in asking. He never spoiled surprises.

Eventually, they reached a massive set of iron doors.

"Wait here," he said, and she watched him effortlessly open the heavy doors which groaned on their hinges, and she was surprised when he closed them again behind himself, leaving her standing outside.

She tried to stand there and admire the trees and flowers that surrounded the mountain path, but it was hard to focus on anything when Varg was up to something, and she was sure he could sense her growing impatient.

At last, she heard the doors groan again, and he beckoned her to come inside.

"I had to light some lamps, or you wouldn't see anything. Now, close your eyes."

"Well, what was the point of lighting the lamps if you still won't let me see anyway?" she laughed, but he only raised an eyebrow at her until she finally closed her eyes for him.

He took her hand and guided her forward for what felt like a considerable distance before he finally stopped.

"Take a look," he said.

"What the hell?" she shouted when she finally opened her eyes and was nearly floored by what she saw all around her.

Gold.

Gold everywhere. Dozens of lamps set into the cave walls revealed a massive cavern strewn with shimmering piles of gold in nugget form. Most of the piles were taller than she was and she also noticed the cave walls glittered with even more veins of gold and what she guessed to be raw, unpolished gemstones.

She had seen the veins of gold in the great cave where the lycans held their council meetings, but she had never imagined they had gathered up so much of the precious mineral.

Varg seemed quite pleased with himself as he enjoyed her shocked reaction. He was aware that humans supposedly liked gold, though he hardly understood why. To lycans, they were worthless shiny rocks that they kept finding in their mountain caves. The gold belonged to the entire pack, but other than occasionally carrying a small amount on their person for trading purposes, it was rarely ever used. Lycans preferred to be self-sufficient, and there was little they needed or wanted that they couldn't acquire from nature.

"Take as much as you want. It just sits here collecting dust," he offered.

"What? I can't do that!"

She watched him pick up a large nugget that was far bigger than his fist and place it in her hands.

"It belongs to the pack. You're a part of this pack now, Halea. You're my mate. Everything that is mine is yours. Now you can get whatever you want from the trader."

He always managed to astonish her, and all she could do was stare at the big lump he handed her.

"Are…are you sure?" she asked, and he nodded. "Well…but just a little," she said as she put the huge nugget down and picked up a much smaller piece the size of a chicken's egg. She honestly didn't even need that much, but it was the smallest nugget she could see without digging, and she wondered if the lycans even bothered with anything smaller.

"Now I just need to figure out how to sew."

She knew how to repair clothes, but she had never learned to make them, and once again she was reminded of a skill set she lacked.

"Adolpha has skill with such things. She'll help you," he assured.

They were beginning to light the fire pits for the evening meal by the time they got back down to the common area. Once the heavy snows came, the lycans would do their communal gathering within the large caverns of their mountains.

Halea left Varg before dinner was served to find Daciana.

When she found the she-wolf, she was coming down to the common area from her tree-dwelling, her young son Fillin in tow.

"Daciana!" called Halea and she watched the she-wolf smile at her approach. Since being made a member of the pack Daciana had grown to be a very good friend and one of the few people she could ask private questions about the customs of being mated to a lycan.

"Is your mother around?" asked Halea.

"Aww, I thought you liked me best," teased the she-wolf.

Halea laughed and shook her head.

"I do, but do you know how to sew?"

"No."

"Well, then I'm afraid your mother gets to be my new favorite friend."

"Sewing? Are you making something?"

Tiny hands began tugging at her robes, and she looked down to see Fillin reaching up to her.

"Leeah, pick me up!" he pleaded as he continued to paw at her.

"Fillin!" cried his mother.

Halea laughed and picked up the toddler. "All right, but you take it easy with those claws this time, mister."

"So what are you making?"

"Well, I can't keep dressing like a priestess, and there's no point in me trying to fit in with you guys. I'd still stick out like a sore thumb anyway. I was thinking of making new robes, seeing as I've grown pretty comfortable in them. Varg said the trader would be here soon and if I can get some fabric, I was hoping your mother could help me."

The she-wolf beamed with excitement. "Oh, let me help you to pick things out when the trader gets here! I don't know anything about what humans wear but I just love trading, and my mother would be happy to help you make whatever you want."

Not all lycans were hunters or warriors; some were skilled craftsmen and artisans. Daciana's mother, Adolpha, was a weaver and a seamstress for the pack, and her father was a potter and a stone carver.

When Varg came to fetch Halea to join him at his fire pit for dinner, she was still chatting away excitedly with Daciana. He was pleased to see she had made a close friend within the pack. He wanted her to feel like his people were her people eventually and he knew she sometimes still felt out of place. There were those who disapproved of their mating, and it weighed heavily on her.

She smiled, and her eyes lit up at his approach, and he couldn't resist reaching out for her.

Halea was a little shocked when Fillin let out a vicious, inhuman snarl at Varg's approach and she was certain if Varg hadn't moved his hand, he'd of been bitten.

Daciana looked mortified at her son's aggressive behavior.

"Get your own mate, runt!" Varg said with a scowl, but Fillin continued to growl, and Halea winced as his claws dug into her in his attempt to not be removed.

Varg fixed the young cub with a piercing stare of authority that instantly quieted the child and forced him to hide his face in Halea's hair.

"Aw, don't be so hard on him," pleaded Halea when she heard the little boy whimper, but to her dismay, Varg merely plucked the boy from her arms and handed him over to his embarrassed mother. Daciana gave her alpha a nervous smile of apology before running off to join her own mate for the evening.

"Never too early for them to start learning their place," he explained. Their ways may have seemed harsh to a human, but lycans had a strictly defined hierarchy. It was expected for Varg, as an alpha, to discipline the cubs of the pack if they stepped out of line, just as much as if he were their natural born father. Everyone in the pack was treated as family whether they were blood-related or not.

When they were young like Fillin, it was easy, but cubs got terribly scrappy when they reached adolescence, and there was often fighting amongst friends and siblings. Even young lycans had their pecking order where one would always inevitably rise to be alpha, at least of their peers. Usually, adults left the cubs to their own devices and only broke up fights when they became disruptive to others. One warning glare from a true alpha could break up a fight in a second.

"You know if you want a cub so badly, I'll gladly give you one," he whispered hotly into her ear as they walked towards the main fire pit and he grinned in satisfaction to see his mate blush.

"We've just barely mated. If there's one thing we have, it's time," she replied, and she couldn't help but glance down at the rune of contraception painted on her left wrist. She wasn't opposed to having children with Varg someday if they could have children at all, but something inside her was warning her that now was not a good time. She made a mental note to repaint her mark which was beginning to fade a little. Soon she would be ovulating again and as voracious as Varg's appetite for her already was, it only got worse when his powerful senses picked up on her being in heat. It was best to not make many plans during that time as she could barely get a moment away from him.

When they reached the fire pit, Varg pulled Halea into his lap. She was still getting used to the strange lycan custom of mates being so close during meal times, but she couldn't deny that she loved feeling his arms around her as they sat together in front of the cozy fire.

The gatherers in Varg's fire pit changed regularly as many would dine with their alpha as a way to discuss important matters of the pack. Tonight they were surrounded by the hunters, and Halea felt a little sad that Daciana and her mate Hemming was not included. They had family obligations keeping them away from the hunter's circle that night, but they would be included in the big hunt when the time came.

Lycan mates shared meals from one plate, but Varg's food was usually dripping with fresh blood, and so Halea had to have her own separate plate. That didn't stop Varg from occasionally stealing bites of her food. He didn't actually have any interest in her food but sharing meals was one of the ways lycans showed love and affection, and so she would always let him skewer a portion of his own meat and set it on the fire for her.

As the evening wore on, she grew tired of hearing the discussion of the hunters and her mind began to wander. She was the happiest she had ever been, but there was a deep, undeniable fear that never seemed to go away. She wondered if it was because she missed her grandfather. He wasn't getting any younger, and his health had been poor when last she saw him. She was certain someone must have told him about her and Varg, and she wasn't even sure if he would ever want to see her again. He despised therians who weren't Lord Anshar. She worried she would never see him again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that that wasn't the source of her fear.

It seemed odd that there was such a simple remedy for ages of tears and convergences. Sometimes she wondered if the Goddess was still speaking to her. She retained had all the gifts she had been born with, and there were times when she felt an inexplicable need to stare into the west, towards where the Citadel of the Sun had once stood among the ocean waves tall and proud.

Varg finally had everything he had ever wanted; his people were safe and growing prosperous and numerous again, he was the Wolf King, and his Halea was finally his mate. When he felt the storm of her emotions he wrapped one of his arms tighter around her and with his other hand he stroked the back of her wrist and hand, offering comfort through his touch. He could feel her relax and grow peaceful through their bond. He knew she still feared the Dimension of Chaos, and that she was having a hard time believing the nightmare was finally over. He was hoping that with time she would accept the reality and truly allow herself to be at peace.

All he wanted was for her to be happy. She had endured enough pain, and he would do everything within his power to make sure she would never know such suffering again.

* * *

Though the sun had been up for an hour, she was still sleeping peacefully beside him. He would have to get up soon, the coming of winter brought extra responsibilities for an alpha, but he wasn't ready to leave her side yet. He always wanted every moment he could have with her. Feeling her breathing as he held her in his arms, listening to her heart, and enjoying her scent were all things he would cherish for the rest of their lives. She was everything he'd ever wanted, and he couldn't help wishing she were awake so he could make love to her again, but he had probably already exhausted her enough from the night before.

He heard the commotion outside, and he knew he would have to wake her.

She woke to his gentle kiss, and she couldn't help but smile as he pulled back and grinned at her. His vivid blue eyes always lit up when he looked at her, and she instinctively cuddled up closer to him.

"I'd have let you sleep a little longer, but the trader is here."

He watched as her face lit up with excitement. It had been several weeks since she had decided she wanted to obtain material from the trader and she had been looking forward to his arrival.

By the time they came down to the common area, there was already a huge gathering.

She saw several peddlers' wagons that were so massive it took six oxen to pull just a single one. Each wagon was loaded with trade goods and opened up like a small mobile shop.

"Halea!" she heard Daciana shout. "Come on; the fabric trader is here."

"Have fun, or whatever you weird females like to do. I'll be getting the building materials and tools for our house," Varg said with a laugh as Daciana dragged Halea away.

Halea had never been around any other therians than lycans and Lord Anshar, and she was startled when she first saw the trader. He had beady black eyes, and there was something strange about the shape of his nose that gave him an inhuman quality. His hair was jet black except for where it was streaked with white, and she had to try and remind herself not to stare. As Varg's mate she was the alpha female of their pack and these badger therian traders were welcomed as guests, and she could not afford to be rude.

"Greetings," she offered, and she watched as the strange therian smiled at her with his long visible fangs.

"Greetings, Wolfmother. So the rumors are true, you are human. And I thought I had seen everything in my travels," he said with a chuckle. "You and your friend are most welcome to browse my wares."

She suppressed a cringe. She was neither a wolf, nor a mother, and it felt wrong for her to possess such a title. Varg had assured her that Wolfmother was simply the name for a female alpha or an alpha's mate, and it had nothing to do with whether or not she was a real mother, or in Halea's case, even a real lycan. An alpha pair were looked upon as leaders but also as nurturers. Even though Varg was young by alpha standards, he was seen as a father figure to his people as he was both protector and provider. An alpha female shared a similar role and was often looked upon as the more motherly and nurturing of the pair. A Wolfmother cared for her people and saw to their emotional well-being and happiness. Traditionally, it is the female alpha who settles domestic disputes, arranges pack social occasions, and oversees the running of the den in the absence of her mate. There had been female leaders who had risen to alpha of their own power and not through mating, but it was a rare occurrence as combat was still required to determine leadership and due to sexual dimorphism, the males usually had the physical advantage.

Even though the title wasn't tied to legitimate motherhood, or even being a lycan, she still felt undeserving. It seemed presumptuous of her to assume authority over Varg's people, even if it was expected of her.

Varg wanted to offer her the responsibilities of her position, but he wasn't going to force the burden of being an alpha's mate on her. Thanks to the bond he knew exactly how she felt, even though he tried to assure her she was pack now and his people would obey her without question, he knew she still wasn't ready. He had been exceedingly grateful to Batsuba for agreeing to take Halea as an apprentice. Becoming a healer would be a great way for her to feel useful to the pack, but also for her to demonstrate that she cared about the pack's health and well-being, a quality very much synonymous with being a Wolfmother.

Halea gave a polite nod, and she and Daciana proceeded to inspect the selection of material. They were eventually joined by Daciana's mother, who wanted to give her opinion as well, as she would be the one tailoring the robes.

Halea selected three sturdy fabrics to make new robes; one in a pale shade of green that matched her eyes, which Daciana had insisted would be flattering. One that was a bright shade of blue that matched the crystal she wore around her neck and which also reminded her of Varg's eyes, and another in a deep blood red shade. The she-wolves had been a little skeptical when she had admired the red, stating it was a color that reminded them too much of wounded prey, but Halea had a fondness for the shade. The sash and trim of her priestess robe had been a similar shade of red, and she couldn't help but remember that it was also the same shade of red as Lord Anshar's cloak, which he had once used to save her life when she had been trapped in a fire as a young girl.

She also selected some softer fabrics to make new undergarments and sleepwear. Varg wouldn't like it, they had slept nude together since being mated, but the cold winter was coming, and perhaps she'd get a little more sleep if her mate was less enticed.

Adolpha also helped Halea to pick out a beautiful soft white fabric that could be made into a warm winter cloak when lined with fur.

"In a few more months the rabbits and foxes will be turning white, and their fur would make lovely lining, and you'd blend in with the snow should you want to join any of the winter hunts," said Daciana.

Halea wasn't sure about joining winter hunts, but the idea of being camouflaged in the snow did appeal to her. She grinned wickedly to herself as she imagined finally giving Varg a taste of his own medicine. In the past few weeks, she had finally managed to master the ability to block her emotions from him, much to his chagrin.

She handed her purchases over to Adolpha and went to find Varg. He was seated at the fire pit with another one of the badger therian traders and judging by the look of their discussion, she hesitated, not wanting to interrupt. Varg sensed her nervousness and looked over his shoulder and immediately waved her over. She came to sit beside him, not wanting to make their guest uncomfortable with the typical lycan flirtatious displays, but to her embarrassment, Varg was having none of it and immediately pulled her into his lap and caged her in his arms. She could sense his mirth at her mortification, and she was sure she was blushing.

"Broc, this is Halea," introduced Varg.

"I see why she has won your heart. Greetings, Wolfmother, your mate tells me he's going to build you a mansion in a tree," he said with a laugh. The sight of a human was not off-putting for the badger therians. While generally shunned and despised for their therian nature, there were occasionally decent humans who made an exception for them, if only for the sake of doing business. Perhaps it was the necessity of their trade, but badger therians were somewhat more open-minded than other therians.

Broc appeared quite similar to the other badger therian, except for being more portly and he casually smoked a long and unusual wooden pipe.

"Uh…hopefully nothing that big," she said with a nervous smile, but Varg's silence across the bond made her try to whip her head around to question him with her eyes. He only tightened his grip on her as he struggled not to laugh.

 _"Oh, he is going to get it the moment we're alone,"_ she thought. She should have known he would try and go overboard.

She patiently sat as Varg negotiated several large purchases on behalf of the entire pack while other lycans served food and drink for them and their guest. It was their last chance to stock up on salt, ale, wine, tools, and various other supplies that would be needed to see them through the long winter.

Eventually, the trader said his farewells and left them to pack up the caravan.

"Varg?"

"Are you going to yell at me?"

"Oh, I am going to _kill_ you!"

He nuzzled her behind the ear, and he could sense her anger reluctantly waiver.

"I think I can get you to forgive me," he breathed into her ear. "As alphas, a bigger place might be necessary. We do have our obligations to the pack, and I expect we'll have regular visitors, not to mention we'll need room for all our cubs."

She groaned at his implication, but he only chuckled.

"Someday, eventually, whenever you're ready," he amended, and her anger finally dissipated.

"Here, I also got this for you," he said as he pulled out a beautiful and deadly looking knife.

"What, to murder me with if I argue about the size of our house?" she teased.

He merely shook his head and handed her the knife and watched as she unsheathed it. The steel of the blade was of such high quality she could see her reflection in it, and the handle was beautiful and wrought with gold and silver designs in strange and intricate patterns.

"You've been leaving your spear at home too much lately," he complained.

"It's hard to gather herbs for Batsuba and drag a weapon around," she defended.

"Well, I don't like it. You don't have claws and fangs like we do. There may not be demons anymore, but that doesn't mean there aren't other dangers," he explained, and he couldn't help but remember his own mother's demise. She had been murdered by snake therians while she was out gathering medicinal bark for Batsuba. His mother's death had destroyed his father. For years he had resented how cold and distant his father had become after the death of his mother, but now he knew, he could never live if anything ever took his own mate away from him.

Halea was a skilled warrior and the only person who could ever rival him, but she had never had to fight for her life against a therian. Her purification powers, which were lethal to demons, were little more than a nuisance to therians and he did not want her going anywhere without a weapon.

While she was often annoyed that he was so overprotective of her, she also knew where his fears were coming from. She knew about how his mother had died, and she also knew if anything happened to her, Varg would not hesitate to follow her into the grave.

"It's beautiful. I promise I'll always carry it with me. I'll ask Adolpha to sew a place into my new robes where I can keep it concealed. Thank you, Varg," she said as she softly touched his face and she basked in the overwhelming sensation of his love as he seized her lips in a deep and passionate kiss.

The moment was spoiled when Varg heard a sound that nearly sent the red into his eyes - the cry of a falcon on the wind.

"I'm getting my bow," he said with a growl as he jumped up and Halea could sense his boiling anger.

"Don't, Varg, he's just the messenger. It's not his fault," she cried, trying to calm her furious mate.

"Yeah, well, without a messenger, perhaps they'll stop sending so many messages," he grumbled.

"Please, Varg, what if my grandfather is ill again?" she pleaded, and only then did his temper somewhat subside, but he still growled the whole time the bird of prey slowly circled down to land on her outstretched arm.

Varg's growl only got louder as the falcon's sharp talons inadvertently cut into his mate's flesh upon landing.

"He can't help it, Varg. I'm not wearing a glove," she said, as she watched red begin to grow around the edges of her mate's normally blue eyes.

He wanted to rip that bird to shreds, and all the more so as the falcon regarded him with its round eyes as if to mock him.

With her free hand, Halea worked to untie the message that was attached to Rufus’s leg. The falcon cocked its head at the sight of the glittering blue stone that hung from a leather cord around her neck before pecking at it playfully. With the message finally removed, she gently set the bird on one of the benches near the fire pit. She gave him a scrap of raw meat which he gobbled readily. He flapped his wings a little but waited patiently while she opened the message.

_Halea,_

_High Priestess Maven is beside herself with grief over the loss of Lord Anshar. We all miss you, especially your grandfather. We have not told him where you really are or who you're with because we didn't want to worry him. His health has been stable, but the loss of Lord Anshar has put him under stress. Everyone is trying to figure out what's really going on and you're the only one that can tell us what happened that day. Halea, we need you. Please return to Antherose. You wouldn't have to stay long. We know you are no longer a priestess, but regardless, you will always be one of us._

_Love_

_Mama Dragon_

"No!" Varg command with a growl.

"Varg…"

"They tried to kill you, Halea!" he reminded.

She sighed. They had had this discussion before, but in the past, Mama Dragon's notes had always been much briefer and to the point. With winter coming, it would be better for her to get it over with and she did miss her grandfather. She was actually a little sad someone hadn't broken the news about Varg for her, but she supposed that wasn't anyone else's responsibility and she'd have to own up to it.

Rationally, Varg knew the time of sacrifice was over and that Halea had been spared by the dragon therian, but he didn't like the idea of being parted from her, even if for only a short amount of time. He had once suggested accompanying her, but the thought of her grandfather meeting Varg before she was certain he would accept their mating, mortified her. As an alpha, his place was with his people, and with the coming winter, he could not afford to roam too far.

She went to him and softly caressed his arm, but he knew what she was up to and quickly grabbed her wrist.

"Don't Halea, please. What if something happens and I'm not there with you?"

"I was a priestess for two years before returning to you, Varg. I can take care of myself. I'll have my spear, and I'll even take my new knife. There aren't any tears or demons anymore, and I don't have to pass through any therian territories between here and Antherose. I promise I won't be gone for long."

He made a grumbly sort of growl as he remembered the last time she had temporarily left him to return to the stronghold of the priestesses. She had been gone for nearly a week, and he had hated every moment she was away. Being parted now that they were mated would be even more painful, but he knew the messages would not stop until she returned to them. He also knew she worried about her grandfather who was mortal and in poor health. She had been blocking their bond at night lately not to worry him, but he didn't need to feel her emotions to know she was still upset.

"Varg, please. I need to do this. Please understand," she pleaded, and the look in her eyes broke him.

"I can't bear being parted from you," he said as he scooped her up into his arms and his anguish tore into her heart.

"It won't be for long, and we won't really be apart. We have the bond now. We'll always be together no matter what," she promised as she returned his embrace and rested her head on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Next chapter, Halea returns to Antherose! I wonder how her grandfather will take the news that she's now mated to a therian? We'll soon find out! Thank you to everyone who has been reading. If you're enjoying the story please please please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys. Every comment I receive really helps motivate me in my writing.
> 
> Reminder: New chapters uploaded every-other Friday!


	4. Breaking the News

Josephine sat by her crackling campfire. Only a few months ago she had been a priestess, but what was she now? Was the Chaos Dimension finally defeated? She had served as a priestess for centuries, and it seemed impossible to imagine, but there had been no new tears or demon sightings. Perhaps it really was true. Perhaps it was time for her to start considering what else to do with her long life. As far as she could tell, she still retained her immortality.

She had been told to await further orders until Halea, the last priestess to see Lord Anshar alive, was questioned. She had not seen raven, falcon, or cleric messengers in weeks, and so she was making one last trek from the northern mountains towards Antherose. With Lord Anshar gone, only the High Priestess could relieve her of her duty.

The night became deathly silent except for the sounds of her fire, and she jumped to her feet.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" she shouted into the darkness that surrounded her campsite. That was when she saw a figure standing in the shadows.

"Who are you? How did you get through my barrier?" she questioned as she grabbed her spear and brandished it.

"Josephine," she heard a man say in a deep voice that sounded oddly familiar.

She watched as he stepped forth from the shadows and into the light cast by the fire, and she gasped and dropped her spear.

"Lord Anshar!" she cried. "My Lord, you're alive. Praise be to Tiamet that I've found you," exclaimed the priestess as tears of joy and relief rolled down her face and she stepped towards her Lord and dropped to one knee before him.

As she knelt, she noticed something strange - his armor. Where once it had been shining silver, it was now black and sinister looking.

"Lord Anshar, what has happened to you? Are you all right? They said that you had died in the convergence. Where have you been my Lord?"

"It's all right, Josephine. Everything is all right. I have been within the Dimension of Chaos, and I have seen the true nature of the darkness. It is not something to be feared. I have found the way to free us at last," he explained as he looked down at her with his pale silver eyes that reflected the flames of the fire.

Josephine continued to weep for joy. She had always believed in her heart that Lord Anshar would find a way to save them.

Her joy was short-lived as the Dragon Lord pulled his unsheathed sword from behind his back.

And then he ran her through.

All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears as she watched as he withdrew the Blade That Cuts Through Worlds from her chest. When she looked up into his face, his expression was so cold, and his eyes, they had become elliptical, and they were the last thing she ever saw.

* * *

 

Halea took a deep breath and leaned on her spear as she watched the port city of Antherose come into view. An icy wind picked up and caused her new cloak to flutter around her ankles. She had contemplated going to the castle first, but she decided to call on her grandfather instead.

She could sense Varg missing her through their bond ever since they parted ways several days ago, and she missed him too and longed to return as quickly as possible. She was certain he was feeling her nervousness because she could sense him growing anxious on her behalf. She closed her eyes before she knocked on the door to her grandfather's home and concentrated on sending soothing emotions to her mate. This day would be trying enough without Varg's stress adding to her own. She wanted to block him until the ordeal was over, but he'd only panic and assume the worst. He had insisted she take her new knife and a small flask of scent masking potion in case she encountered any dangerous therians outside of his territory.

To her surprise, Favion opened the door to greet her.

"Halea, you've returned!" he cried the moment he saw her standing in the doorway, and he instantly took notice of her new red robe that was visible beneath her white cloak. "So it's true. You're not a priestess anymore," he added, looking a little sad. "I suppose I already know who the lucky guy is."

Favion had been there during the last convergence, and he remembered all too well how the priestesses and other clerics had left Halea behind to remain with the lycans. He had been doubtful, but Samesa had assured him it was of Halea's own volition.

"Yes…about that…"

"Favion, who is at the door? Don't stand there letting all the cold air in!" her grandfather's voice called.

Favion stepped aside, and Halea entered to find her grandfather making his way slowly down the stairs.

"Halea!" he gasped.

She smiled up at her grandfather as he came down to greet her, his face washed with relief and joy. He wasted no time throwing his arms around her, and she was certain she felt a shuddering sob escape him as she returned his embrace.

"I'll come back for the rest of the maps and notes later," blurted Favion. The scene was touching, but he knew he was intruding. "Nice seeing you again, Halea!" he offered as he gathered up his things and closed the door behind him.

Uro eventually pulled back and wiped the tears away from under his thick spectacles.

"They told me you had been spared. I almost couldn't believe it. It seems impossible, but Lord Anshar is gone, isn't he?"

Halea merely nodded, and she watched her grandfather become crestfallen.

"What will we do without him?"

"There haven't been any more tears or demons have there?" she asked.

"No. And we have all been watching very carefully. As far as we can tell, it has stopped."

"Then Lord Anshar isn't needed anymore."

"I wish I could believe that," he replied, and Halea couldn't argue. Deep inside, she harbored the same strange fear.

"At least you are alive and safe. Praise Tiamet! Where have you been these past few months? I was told you were no longer a priestess, is it true?"

Halea leaned her spear against the wall and led her grandfather to his old comfy armchair, and she went to put on the kettle to make tea. She had a lot of explaining to do, and it would be best for them to sit down as she confessed the secrets she had kept from him since she was a child.

Once Uro was comfortable, his hot cup of tea in hand, Halea took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

She told him of how she had met Varg as a child, and of how they had become friends and had played together for years. She even told him that her mother had known all about the lycan boy, and had eventually approved of their friendship. She assured him she had never been in any form of danger and that Varg had always deeply cared for her. She even explained the reason why she had always been so adept at combat training was that it was Varg who had trained her first. Uro nearly dropped his cup at that revelation. He had always allowed himself to believe she had just been naturally talented, or that the goddess had been particularly generous with her blessings.

The next part was the hardest, and Halea had to borrow one of her grandfather's handkerchiefs as she went on to explain how the convergence had torn them apart. How they had both believed the other to be dead and gone until reunited many years later. She wiped her eyes and tried to calm herself as she was forced to remember the black day of the convergence again; the day she witnessed the destruction of Ruinac and the death of her mother. All the pain quickly resurfaced, and she had to take a moment to collect herself before she could continue her story. Her grandfather watched her as tears appeared in his own eyes. It was a day even he couldn't forget.

"When Varg and I found each other again, it was like we had never been apart. Even after all those years, we still cared about each other…we…well, um…we fell in love," she finally blurted.

It was a poorly timed statement as Uro had been gulping some tea and the moment she made her confession he spat out the liquid all over the serving tray. Halea knew she wasn't going to want any more of those biscuits.

"Now…now please hear me out," she quickly offered. "I know he's a therian, and I know it's very unusual, but Varg loves me more than anything. With him, I am safe and happy, and we have a good life together amongst his people. We're uh…well…we're married, sort of, in a sense. I guess you could say."

She had dreaded the exact reaction she had received from her grandfather. He gasped in horror and clutched his chest, and she had to run and fetch his heart medicine.

"I'll go for the healer," she cried once he seemed to have calmed down a little.

"No…no, it's okay. I'm fine. It's just…my gods…what a shock," he finally answered.

"Grandfather, I know how you feel about therians, but Varg is different. In fact, most lycans are pretty decent, once you get to know them. Lord Anshar was a therian, and he always had your respect. In fact, Lord Anshar knew about Varg and I. Believe it or not, the last words he said to me were; 'Be happy.' So you see; I'm not a priestess anymore. Lord Anshar knew I had given my heart to Varg, and so he took my immortality away, not that it matters, Varg is sharing his with me."

"What happened to him, Halea?" her grandfather finally asked.

"He spared my life and sacrificed himself instead. He threw himself into the Chaos. I don't know how, but the convergence tear closed. I want to believe his sacrifice worked. I want to believe he saved us all and that we're finally free of it…it's just…"

"You feel it as well?"

She nodded.

"You must trust the Goddess when she speaks to you. It is as I feared."

"But it seems to be over."

"And if it's not? Who will save us now? I have spent the past few months pouring over this very problem. Lord Anshar left our world without an heir. The only other blood of Tiamet is Lahamu, and like many of the ancient first descendants, she has become dormant."

Tiamet was the dragon goddess of heaven and creation. In the beginning, there had been many ancient gods, and they had worked together to create all that existed, but it was Tiamet who possessed the breath of life. Humans had been created to serve the gods, but they had rebelled and warred against the gods and the children of the gods, the therians. Humans had chosen to turn their backs on their creators, their punishment being that they would live only a short mortal life. There were some who still gave thanks to the old gods, such as the disciples of Tiamet. Tiamet had never lost hope in humans, which was why she would bless a select few with the gifts of her power, those who would go on to become priestesses. Tiamet was often referred to as the Great Dragon Mother, because like a mother, she loved that which she helped to create unconditionally, and she was one of the few of the ancient gods that had not turned their backs on humanity.

Tiamet was not the only ancient dragon god. There was Urmothon, the world shaker, bringer of natural disasters. Typhon, the dragon of war. Sylvion, the dragon goddess of love and fertility. Zernebog, the dragon god of death and destruction. Then there was Tiamet's lover and mate, Abzu, the great dragon of the earth. Tiamet begot only one child, Lahamu, Lord Anshar's mother.

Lahamu mated with Ajax, who was the son of Umbrea, the dragon goddess of the sea, and Ignis, the dragon god of fire. It was often speculated that Lord Anshar's power came not only from his great lineage through Tiamet but also from the fact that he was the physical embodiment of the four elements; heaven and earth, fire and water.

There were many other ancient deities; some were snakes, some were lions or bears, and some were wolves. But even the gods warred amongst themselves, and since those ancient days many had gone dormant and had not been seen or heard from again, such was the case with Lahamu. Even Lord Anshar could not say what had become of his parents in the many ages since he had last seen them.

Halea did not have an answer for her grandfather's question, and it was the very question keeping her up at night. The fact that Tiamet still compelled her warned her that their troubles were not over. The Goddess did not speak with words, but those who worshipped her often felt an undeniable need to work towards her will. Young women who were blessed felt the urge to serve and become priestesses, and few ever denied such a path as the call inside of them was often too powerful to ignore. The few who served and eventually relinquished being a priestess often still felt the undeniable call that would haunt them for the rest of their days.

She didn't like thinking about the horrific implications of what it would mean if Lord Anshar's sacrifice had actually failed, and instead, she tried to steer the conversation back to where it began.

"Grandfather, I'm sorry if I've worried you. And I'm sorry that I had to keep all this from you, but I had to follow my heart. I love Varg. We're happy. I don't care what he is; it's never mattered to me. Please don't be angry."

"Halea…I know it's never been easy for me to show how much I care. I know I've been strict, but believe me when I say I've only ever wanted what was best for you. When they told me you had been chosen as the sacrifice, what I wouldn't have given to have taken the sword for you instead. The truth is…I don't want you to be a priestess anymore. It's not safe, not for you. I don't know what the future holds, but Lord Anshar saw fit to relieve you of your duty, and I trust his judgment. I can't say I'm thrilled about the idea of you being married to a shifter, but if you're truly happy, if you're truly safe, you will always have my love."

Halea threw her arms around her grandfather and thanked him.

* * *

 

Favion was quick to spread the word that Halea had returned and by the time she reached the castle everyone was waiting to greet her.

Mama Dragon nearly crushed her in a warm hug, and both Samesa and Kalee were relieved to see their friend again.

"You look wonderful, and the new robe suits you," said Kalee.

"I've missed you guys. The castle looks so occupied. I don't think I recall ever seeing so many clerics and priestesses here at one time."

"They've all come back. What else is there to do? There's nothing for us to fight anymore," replied Samesa, and Halea noticed the discomfort on her face.

"We all feel it, don't we?" Halea asked.

They all cast each other nervous glances before nodding their heads.

"High Priestess Maven is waiting for you," said Mama Dragon in her thick exotic accent, and Halea took a deep breath.

When Halea went to look for High Priestess Maven she was surprised to find she wasn't in her office; instead, she had relocated herself to Lord Anshar's study. Halea couldn't fault her for that. High Priestess was the next highest rank of authority after Lord Anshar, and Halea wondered at the mess that was left behind when he disappeared.

There were no servants around to announce her arrival, so instead, she knocked. After an inordinate amount of time, she finally heard a female voice say; "Enter."

When she entered the study, she was shocked to find the High Priestess sitting in Lord Anshar's chair, and that she looked absolutely wretched. There was a nearly empty wine bottle sitting on a table beside her and papers and maps were strewn all around the room. Tomes and scrolls were piled and laid out everywhere as if a tornado had struck. She noticed the desk was different than the one she last saw when Lord Anshar had been in this room, and there was a dent in the wall as if something massive had been thrown against it. Maven was clutching something to her breast, and Halea let out a gasp when she realized what it was – the dark mirror.

"High Priestess, you shouldn't…"

"He's gone. He's not here," interrupted Maven in a weakened and slurred voice. "Tiamet gave it to him to keep it safe, who will protect it now? Who will protect any of us now? He's not here," she repeated, and Halea watched as tears streamed from her dark eyes.

"Please, High Priestess, set it down."

"You! You saw him! You saw what happened!" cried Maven as she jumped to her feet, still cradling the uncovered mirror close to her body. "Why are you here? Why are you alive and he is not? What did you do?"

Halea watched as Maven gently set the mirror down, her body swaying in her inebriation causing her to grasp the desk firmly with both hands to steady herself.

"He sacrificed himself…instead of me. I don't know why. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was…" she paused as she remembered the way he had looked at her when he had caressed her face and the way he had kissed her. She had often wondered if it was only a kiss goodbye, or something more, but she had always chided herself for such thoughts. That was impossible.

"He once told me he wanted to find another way. I just don't think he could do it anymore. Any of it," she continued.

"It's not over…I'm so scared," Maven whispered, but Halea heard her.

"We're all scared. We all feel it too. I don't know what else to tell you. He's gone, and we're on our own. He relieved me of my duty. I'm sorry. May Tiamet have mercy on us all," said Halea as she turned and began to walk out of the room. Though Maven had always been cold and strict with Halea, she couldn't help but pity the High Priestess.

"You were always his favorite. He did this for you. He damned us all…for you," the High Priestess spoke in a low voice.

Halea froze in her steps and let the words of the High Priestess sink in. Was that true? No; only Maven's jealousy. Lord Anshar had always been unhappy as the servant of Tiamet. He had told her he hated having to sacrifice the lives of the priestesses. He had always hated it. It was only that she had been the last, and nothing more. She walked out of the study and closed the door behind her, leaving the High Priestess to collapse back into his chair, sobbing pathetically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: I know many of you were hoping for another chapter with Lord Anshar. TA-DA! Murder! That's...probably not what you had in mind. Well, I'm afraid he's taking a walk on the dark side now, so brace yourselves. This chapter also served to delve up a bit more mythology on their world, including the origins of Lord Anshar and a bit more insight into why humans and theirans don't get along in this universe, so I hope some questions were answered for you. I've included a family tree below for anyone who might have been confused by the exact explanation of Lord Anshar's Lineage. So what do you guys think of Uro's reaction to learning about Halea and Varg? He could have probably taken it better, but we're not done with him yet. Maven seems to have taken the loss of Lord Anshar very hard, but as we'll see in the next chapter, Maven isn't the only one wondering how Halea survived and Lord Anshar did not. And our favorite dragon therian might just make another appearance - uh oh. Buckle your seatbelts, the next few chapters are going to get pretty intense.
> 
> Tiamet (Dragon Goddess of Heaven/Creation) + Abzu (Earth Dragon) = Lahamu  
> Umbrea (Dragon Goddess of the Sea) + Ignis (Dragon God of Fire) = Ajax  
> Lahamu + Ajax = Lord Anshar


	5. The Hunted

When Halea emerged from the castle, the sun was beginning to set, and though she wanted to be on her way home, she decided it would be wiser to stay the night with her grandfather and set out first thing in the morning. She could sense Varg growing anxious and impatient, and again she tried to focus on her love for him, and the moment he felt her reaching for him, she could sense him calming down.

As she made her way through the courtyard, she noticed a large gathering of priestesses and clerics and she could hear cries of despair mixing in with raised voices.

"What is it, Kalee?" she asked when she approached the throng.

"Oh, Halea, it's returned. What will we do?" cried the redhead.

It was as if the earth had fallen out from beneath her feet. Sweat poured down her back, and her heart jumped and ran. She could sense Varg immediately panicking across the bond, and though she didn't want to, she quickly put up a block.

Denji stood before the terrified congregation. She had just returned from the north with the news that she had personally seen and closed a tear and that demons had returned to their world. Everyone was panicking at her tidings. Denji noticed Halea standing at the back of the crowd, and she quickly rushed forward, pushing her way past clerics and other priestesses.

"You! What happened? Lord Anshar is gone, and we have no one now," shouted Denji in fury.

Halea snapped out of her trance of horror and regarded the angry priestess before her. All eyes had turned to her. Her anger boiled up within her, and something snapped.

"He's dead. Is that what you want to hear? He chose to die! He chose to leave us, but he wanted to find another way. None of you ingrates ever stopped to consider that perhaps he was sick of this…all of this! That perhaps he was miserable because nothing ever changed or got any better, no matter how many of us he had to sacrifice. Don't you understand that he was tired? How many ages did he fight to protect our world only to constantly see destruction and death? Maybe he was hoping sacrificing himself would finally be enough to stop it. Maybe he was just done. I pitied him. I've always pitied him, because none of you ever saw the torment that he lived through. None of you cared. As long as he saved your worthless asses time and again; you never cared. But, he's gone now. It's over. We are on our own. If Chaos has truly returned, then we can fight, or we can cower and let death take us. I may not be a priestess anymore, but I'll be damned if I'm just going to give up."

Tears rolled down Denji's face as utter defeat overcame her at Halea's words. "We have no hope."

"That's not true! We still have Tiamet, and she has not abandoned us," replied Halea.

"She's right," chimed in Mama Dragon as she stepped forward.

"I'm not giving up. I still feel the call, and so do all of you. She is still with us," added Samesa.

Many voices rose in agreement. Some still had fear in their eyes but the more who volunteered to stand and fight, the bolder they all became.

"I'm not going out with a whimper," shouted Favion.

"Me neither, this is why we're here," added another cleric.

"Lord Anshar is gone, and High Priestess Maven is not herself, but you all know what to do. I'm setting out tonight. They're beginning to appear in the north you say?" Mama Dragon asked of Denji, who replied by merely nodding her head.

"Then I'm going."

"I'll go with you," offered Denji. Shaken though she was, she would not abandon her fellow priestesses.

As the congregation began to break up, Samesa approached Halea and asked: "What will you do, Halea?"

"I'm not a priestess anymore, Samesa, not officially, but I still feel her. I feel her just as much as you do. Tomorrow morning I must return home. I still possess the power to purify; if any demons or tears come into the lycan lands, I will be there to stop them. The agreement of the lycan council still stands. If things grow worse beyond what I alone can handle; I might need you."

"I'll periodically send ravens in case you need to contact me. If you need me, I'll be there," promised Samesa as she embraced her friend.

* * *

When she returned to her grandfather's home, she dreaded breaking the news to him; she was afraid his heart couldn't take the shock. The moment her grandfather opened the door and looked into her eyes, he knew, it was written all over her face. He merely shook his head and ushered her inside.

The moment she lifted the block she could sense Varg's mixture of fear, panic, and anger overwhelm her like a tidal wave and she spent half the night trying to soothe him across their bond, but it did little good. He could feel her sadness and fear. He would not understand what had happened, and she dreaded breaking the news to him. He had grown accustomed to the idea that the nightmare was over and that they could live a peaceful life together without ever having to worry about the Chaos again, but that happy dream was now horribly shattered. She couldn't even bear to think of what the future would bring now that the Chaos Dimension had returned.

As she lay in her bed in her old room at her grandfather's home that night, she looked down at the wrist that bore the rune of contraception, and her heart ached with sadness.

" _Varg,_ _I'm so sorry. I can't bring children into this world. It wouldn't be right_ ," she thought as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

She slept fitfully that night as she again dreamt of being on a ship and watching as the city that had once been her home burned and crumbled into the sea and the horrible pain of loss tormented her soul.

* * *

By the next day, Mama Dragon and Denji had already traveled far into the north. Denji regarded a map with her tired eyes and sighed as Mama Dragon waited for her falcon to return from where he surveyed in the sky.

"These mountains are steep and hard to navigate, but I'm certain this is close to where the tear I sealed was. I've heard from travelers and traders that demons have been sighted further northeast of here. Perhaps we should split up."

"Yes. You should stay here for a little while. I know you didn't get a chance to rest upon your return and you're exhausted. I feel fine. I'll go on ahead and if I find anything I'll send Rufus to come and find you."

Denji nodded in gratitude. She didn't have the strength to keep going at the same pace as Mama Dragon.

Once Rufus returned; a dead squirrel clutched in his talons, Mama Dragon set out further northeast into the mountains.

Denji set a barrier around her campsite and nestled beneath a tree and closed her eyes, and before long sleep had claimed her.

* * *

He growled when anyone came anywhere near him. He did not want to be disturbed as he stood on high from the vantage point that overlooked their hunting grounds and the den. He had already sent away Aatu who had come to ask if he intended on leading the hunting party, as they were waiting for him.

"Tell Lyall he will lead the group today. I will not be disturbed again," he barked in irritation.

As soon as Aatu left him, he returned to his brooding thoughts.

Something had gone wrong.

He had felt her panic. He had sensed her anger and her sadness and complete and utter despair. He immediately wanted to track her down and bring her back, but she had spent half the night trying to placate him through their connection, but it was no good. Beneath her offerings of love and comfort, he still felt fear and sadness, but he could also sense she was in no immediate danger and that perhaps by the longing and anticipation he felt from her, it meant she was already returning home. He was forcing himself to be patient for her, but it was not easy.

It would take her almost two days to return once she set out from the human city and he had every intention of meeting her once she crossed the northwestern border into his territory. It might still be early, but he no longer wanted to wait. The den could live a day without him, but he could not live a moment without her.

As the sun began sinking in the west, he set out in search of his mate.

* * *

Denji woke with a start and looked up at the sky. The sun was sinking in the west. She had slept away the entire day, and she cursed to herself. Hunting demons were far more dangerous at night when they were at their most powerful, and she feared she would not catch up with Mama Dragon until the next morning.

Traveling the northern mountains at night was nearly impossible as the trees were so tall she could not even use the stars as her guide. She was too alert to go back to sleep so she decided to travel as far as she could with what little light was left and set some barrier traps along the way and perhaps in the morning she could check them to see if she caught anything.

There were several different types of barrier traps, and all barriers were stationary. Some used spells of purification to repel, some purified on contact, and some trapped demons alive, attempting to escape from such a trap would result in purification. Clerics used the live traps when they wanted to collect specimens for their studies. Denji mostly exterminated demons on sight, but occasionally clerics would request for her to capture demons for observation or dissection. The insides of their bodies were as foul and twisted as their outsides. Clerics had spent ages trying to discover the secrets of how they saw without eyes or heard without ears, and why sunlight seemed to weaken them.

The idea of such experiments sickened her. The demon wraiths were incapable of speech though they showed clear signs of intelligence and were the most powerful class of demon, and the dumber bestial demons all seemed completely different from each other, which made studying such creatures pointless as far as she was concerned. Nonetheless, she stabbed her spear upright in the ground and began casting the spells required to put up barriers.

"Denji."

"Who's there?" she shouted in fright as she stopped her spell and plucked her spear out of the ground.

In the fading light the shadows had begun to spread throughout the forest and no matter which direction she turned, she couldn't see anyone around her.

"Who are you? What do you want? Show yourself!"

Except for the wind blowing softly through the trees, the forest was eerily still and quiet. Something was hunting her in the dark.

She shouted in terror as suddenly a man was standing before her as though he had moved with impossible speed, and she leaped back and slashed with her spear. The man dodged her weapon so quickly she didn't even have time to make her next move before he rushed her and seized her by the throat.

"What's wrong, Denji? Don't you recognize me?" he asked in a familiar voice as his grip tightened, and that was when she actually looked him in the face for the first time.

"Lord Anshar!" she gasped through his grip. "I'm so sorry…forgive me," she begged as she struggled for air. "I didn't recognize you. Halea…she…said you were dead."

He slowly loosened his grip, and the pupils of his silvery eyes took on a strange sharp quality. "Halea…you spoke to her…when?" he demanded in a deep voice of authority.

Denji gasped for air the moment he relaxed his grip. She was struggling to understand what was happening. Why was Lord Anshar alive? Why was he acting this way?

"When?" he repeated with a growl, and she gagged as his grip tightened again and it felt as if the blood within her temples would explode. Only when she struggled to speak against his grip did he finally loosen his hand and allow her to breathe again.

"Yesterday," she managed to say between gasps for air.

"Tell me where she is," he commanded. Denji trembled in his grasp, the reek of her fear assaulting his senses.

"She was in Antherose yesterday, but by now she must be halfway to the lycan territories," she explained. The priestesses and clerics had all heard the rumor that Halea had abandoned her faith to be with a wolf shifter.

Anshar scowled as his rage flared up within him. Lycan territory. Disjointed images flashed in his mind, fragmented memories scattered amidst the dark terrors he had endured within the Chaos; a sword with a wolf-shaped pommel, Halea standing before his true form, pleading for him to spare a life – her lover. A lycan.

Had he lived? Was she with him now? He had to know, but the presence from the Chaos was straining against his will. He had to hunt and destroy the priestesses that threatened to seal the tears. He could sense the will of _the other_ demanding he fulfill his mission, and he struggled within himself to resist. He had to stop her before she was out of his reach.

Denji watched in horror and fear as Lord Anshar's usually stoic face twisted with rage and perhaps confusion. Had the Chaos driven him mad? All who even looked into the Chaos lost their minds, yet he had somehow survived after being inside of the other dimension.

She opened her mouth to speak, but again he tightened his grip on her throat silencing her.

"Thank you, Denji, but you see; you are not needed anymore. Priestesses will never be needed again. I relieve you of your duty," he said as he reached out with his other hand and with one quick expert motion he snapped her neck, and her body went limp.

"Forgive me," he whispered as he gently patted her short inky black hair then laid her body on the forest floor with care.

The quickest way for Halea to reach lycan territory would be to travel southeast from Antherose. He would willingly slay every lycan to get to her, but he could sense the dark presence raging against his disobedience, he could feel his mind slipping in and out of his control, demanding he abandon his own desires. He had his mission, but he would not rest until he saw her again.

From high in the trees Rufus watched as Lord Anshar raced off towards the south, towards lycan territory.

* * *

Halea would soon be nearing the northwestern border of lycan territory, and she was doing her best to concentrate on her longing for home. If she stopped to think that the Chaos had returned for even a moment her heart would race to the point of pain, and it was as if she couldn't breathe, and she had already worried Varg enough for her trip. Temporary blocks on their bond had spared him from experiencing her few brief moments of panic, but he would surely notice if she blocked him for too long. By perhaps late afternoon or early the next evening she should be safe in his arms again, and there was nothing she wanted more than to hold him close and to feel his love wash over her. She wasn't sure how she was going to break the news to him.

She stopped as she felt an urge to stare into the west, where the last of the sun's light was fading. The coast was far beyond where she could see, but sometimes she felt the urge to once again gaze upon the old remains of the Citadel of the Sun. It used to stand proudly among the ocean waves, and she wondered if it would ever be rebuilt now that Lord Anshar was gone. It had once been their holiest temple, and many devotees of Tiamet had worshipped there over the ages, but now with it gone. It was as if they had lost their home, but they all still felt her. Somewhere, out there, she was calling for them. No matter what the future held, she had to believe in the Dragon Mother.

"Please, Tiamet…help us," she prayed.

* * *

Mama Dragon looked up at the rustling sound of wings, and she extended her gloved hand as she watched Rufus descend from the sky. To her surprise, he ignored her outstretched arm, and she watched as he transformed before her.

"Sophia, Denji is dead!" he cried.

Mama Dragon gasped. She had sent Rufus back to check in with Denji after she failed to catch up with her.

"How?"

"You won't believe this, Lord Anshar is alive!" he exclaimed with terror in his black eyes.

Mama Dragon had come from a country across the sea where therians had often warred with humans, and she had fought more than her fair share in her time. As a general rule, she disliked the descendants of the old gods, but Rufus had always been different. She had found him as a fledgling with an injured wing. She had sufficient skill in the healing arts to where she decided to have mercy on the poor injured creature, but when she reached for him, he had transformed into a young boy who cowered from her and pleaded for his life. Even though he was obviously a therian, she could never bring herself to harm any child, and so she had soothed him until he calmed enough for him to allow her to inspect his injury. Where once he had a broken wing, upon transformation he had a broken arm, which was more within her realm of expertise to heal.

Both of his parents were dead, and he had been left starving and defenseless and too young yet to fly, but he had tried to spread his wings nonetheless and had met with disastrous results.

She, too, had lost her family due to the ravages of war and from therian attacks, and she had always possessed a strong maternal instinct, and so she had protected the child and hid his true nature from all other humans until he had recovered from his injury. If anyone had found out that he was a therian and not an ordinary falcon, they would have killed him. They had no one but each other, and so when a cleric discovered her and offered her the opportunity to cross the sea and become a priestess, she had taken him with her, and they had been inseparable ever since.

Rufus was now a grown man, with a wiry frame, wavy brown hair, and large black eyes that reflected like a mirror. His facial features were sharp and his eyes were always darting about. Unlike most therians, he did not possess fangs, claws, or long pointed ears, which had served him well with allowing him to pretend to be human when he had been young. He did not desire to abandon the woman who had been as a mother to him and so he had always loyally remained by her side.

Rufus rarely took his humanoid form for fear of being discovered for what he truly was, but he did not possess the power of speech in his animal form.

She knew the moment she saw him transform, something terrible had happened.

"Alive? But that's impossible; no one can even look into the Chaos."

"He's mad! He murdered Denji in cold blood. He said priestesses would never be needed again. You should have seen his eyes. He isn't the same. I think he means to kill every priestess he finds. He asked Denji where to find Halea, and now he's gone after her. He'll murder Halea once he finds her for sure," he cried.

"Halea? But she's not even a priestess anymore," argued Mama Dragon. It had been Lord Anshar who had relieved Halea of her duties as a priestess. Had the Chaos driven him so insane he did not even remember?

"I don't think that matters to him."

Halea was returning to the lycan territory, to her mate. When Halea had confessed her love for a therian, Mama Dragon had initially been shocked and somewhat disapproving. She knew there were some good therians in the world because she loved Rufus as a son, and Lord Anshar had always treated humanity with kindness and respect, but that did not mean she approved of humans and therians being romantically involved. Where she came from therians waged wars against humans and would sometimes capture human women and keep them as slaves or pets, often only to brutally murder them when they were done having their way with them. A tiger therian had violently murdered her eldest daughter mere days before she was to be wed. She could not help her apprehension and distrust when dealing with most of the descendants of the gods. When Halea had told her the story of how she had met the lycan when they were only children, it had softened her heart as she remembered how innocent Rufus had been when he was a boy. She remembered how hurt Halea had seemed by her initial reaction, but with a little time she had come around to the idea and decided to offer her love and support.

She had seen Varg's love for Halea with her own eyes. He had charged through a hoard of demons to rescue her and even challenged the Dragon Lord, and in the process, he had suffered wounds that were almost fatal. She had helped Halea carry him back to his people, and she had seen how much Halea loved him as she had wept over his fallen body. As different as humans and therians were, their love was undeniable.

"We have to stop him! Fly ahead Rufus, help me find her before it's too late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: So Rufus was a therian this whole time. Who saw that coming? Was that planned since book 1? Yes, it was. As well as slowly revealing more of Mama Dragon's tragic past. Perhaps it's a little more obvious now why she initially had her reservations about the idea of Halea getting involved with a therian. Poor Denji, some of you might remember her from Book 1 though she wasn't in much of it. Lord Anshar's gone completely crackers and now he's going after Halea? What's going to happen? Will he find her before she reaches the lycan territory? Hold onto your butts cause next chapter is going to be very intense!


	6. Resurrection

The northwestern border lay before her, but the last light of the sun had faded into the west before she could find the river that would lead her back through the lycan territory. Without the river as her guide, it would be too difficult to proceed through the dense trees in the dark, and she cursed that she didn't have Varg's powerful night vision. She would have gladly foregone sleep to get home sooner. The autumn night was chilly, and she would not get much rest anyway.

With a defeated sigh she propped her spear against a tree and rummaged in her bag for her tinderbox. As soon as she got a campfire going, she would put up a barrier that would protect her as she slept alone beneath the stars.

Her fire was coming to life when she heard a strange sound in the distance. An uncomfortable but familiar feeling seized her. She quickly tossed a few more dried branches onto her fire, hoping to create as much light as possible as she grabbed her spear and looked all around her. She sensed concern from Varg, but she didn't want to alarm him. She hated to do it to him, but she had to put up a block.

There was a loud crash in the distance that sounded as if a tree had fallen and that was when she heard the snarls and growls.

Demons.

She had spent too many years hunting them and observing their destructive nature to mistake their sounds for anything else, and she quickly dashed off into the thick trees. It was dangerous for her to confront demons in the dark, as they were always at their strongest, and their senses the keenest, but where there were demons; a tear could not be far.

The faint glow of the crescent moon and stars were her only light as she raced towards the sounds, and at last, she skidded to a halt when she saw the unmistakable anomaly of an eerie purple glowing dimensional rift.

She paused for a moment to consider if it was within her right to seal this tear. Lord Anshar had relieved her of her duty, but she still possessed the light of Tiamet. Was it wrong to use her gift when she was no longer a priestess? Not being a priestess had never stopped her from using her power when she had a been a young girl, and there was no way she could allow such a tear to remain unsealed; there was no one else.

She rushed forward and raised her hands and called upon the Goddess, and to her relief, her powers surged forth, and the white light of her purification began to overtake the swirling purple vortex.

She heard the sound of something rushing through the forest towards her, followed by the deafening crash of another large tree being toppled over, and she jumped back in time to avoid the branches that nearly struck her, and that was when she saw it - a demon chariot.

In the dull purple light of the tear, she could see two massive demonic beasts with horns so black they seemed to absorb the shadows around them. They walked on all fours and were harnessed by chains to a chariot that was dark and menacing, the hubs of its wheels covered in razor-sharp blades. Riding in the chariot was a humanoid demon, but its face caused her to gasp in shock; this demon had eyes.

In all her years of battling demons, they had always been earless and eyeless, yet able to see and hear, but this wraith had eyes of solid black. There weren't even any whites to its eyes, but she knew it was staring down at her. She watched as the strange wraith raised its sword high, a dark weapon from the Chaos Dimension and with its other hand it cracked the reins, and the chariot came barreling towards her.

Even the thickness of the trees could not stop the dark charioteer as his bestial demons charged forward smashing down trees with their heavy black horns. Halea ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but no matter how she turned and dodged through the forest, the beasts plowed through the trees after her.

She approached a rocky outcropping and scrambled as high as she could just as the chariot caught up with her. The wraith let out a strange inhuman shrieking sound in agitation at her escape. She took advantage of her elevation and leaped down from the rocks, her spear blazing as she landed into the chariot and clashed weapons with the humanoid demon who snarled at her, revealing silvery teeth, all as sharp as knives.

She had never battled such a demon before. Its moves were lightning fast, and she was in terrible danger by fighting in such close proximity. The beasts had taken liberty of their master's predicament to run wild through the forest, and Halea was struggling to maintain the upper hand in the battle while desperately trying not to be tossed out of the chariot. The beasts caused a wake of devastation as they mowed down trees and the Chariot jumped into the air as the vehicle's wheels were pulled over some obstacle, causing the wraith to lose its balance and topple out of the back of the chariot. Halea grabbed the reins, which were chains, in her desperate attempt to not be thrown from the chariot when she had an idea, and she forced her power to flow through the metal of the chains. Her purification powers pulsed down the chains, and the beasts let out a terrible shriek as the white light engulfed them, causing them to come to a screeching halt as they both exploded into a flame of white.

Halea leaped down from the Chariot, her knees shaking and her heart pounding, but there was no time to recover as the wraith reappeared and charged. Anger consumed her, causing her entire body to burn with the light of Tiamet. She attacked the humanoid demon with all her strength until finally she managed to send its sword flying into the trees and the moment it was at her mercy she ran the creature through with her charged spear and watched as it burst into the white light of purification and was gone.

She was shaking all over, but she had to move, she had to return to the tear as quickly as possible before more of those strange new demons appeared. She ran back through the forest, easily finding her way by following the path of destruction left by the bestial demons until at last she once again stood before the tear. She raised her hands and called upon the Dragon Mother, and to her relief, the tear snapped shut with a deafening roar, and at last, she allowed herself to collapse upon the forest floor.

She was gasping for breath, trembling, and sweating profusely, despite the freezing night air.

"You shouldn't have sealed it, Halea. This is no longer your fight."

She looked up to find a dark shadow standing before her, and she felt another wave of panic. Had the demons changed so much that they had learned how to speak? She jumped to her feet and brandished her spear before her.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" she shouted as she glared at the dark figure.

She watched as the tall form stepped from beneath the trees and into a small patch of moonlight, and she gasped as she saw the flowing silver hair and the unmistakable face of Lord Anshar. Her hands tightened around her spear as she stood motionless in confusion and terror.

" _Impossible…it can't be! It just can't!"_ she thought.

"Lord…Anshar?" she asked. Perhaps this was a ghost or some trick of the Chaos Dimension. "It can't be you; you're dead. How?"

The corners of his lips rose ever so slightly, resulting in an unnerving grin that instantly made her uncomfortable, and that was when she noticed his eyes. She couldn't explain what it was at first, but something was wrong, very wrong. Lord Anshar's silver eyes had always been so kind and sad before, but now they seemed…hungry.

When she finally forced herself to look away from his spellbinding gaze, she noticed it; his armor had turned black.

"You're not Lord Anshar. Who are you?"

"It is I, Halea. The one who pulled you from the fire. The one who failed to seal the convergence away, causing the death of your mother. I, who relieved you of your duty as a priestess."

Halea began trembling all over. No one but Lord Anshar could know such things.

"Lord Anshar, it is you! What happened to you? How did you survive? How is this possible?"

"Don't be afraid, Halea," he said softly, as he stepped closer towards her. He could smell her fear, and the pounding of her heart was almost deafening to him. Her beautiful hazel green eyes were wide and reflective in the moonlight. "Everything will be all right, Halea. I have survived the Chaos and returned, and now I know what must be done to set us free."

"Set us free? But how?"

"I need you to trust me, Halea. Please, tell me you trust me."

She hesitated, she couldn't help it. She knew this was Lord Anshar, but something was wrong, something inside of her was warning her to be on her guard. She couldn't help clutching her spear all the tighter as he took yet another step towards her.

"Halea, I would never hurt you. You know this. For you, I gave my life."

She couldn't help it as tears of guilt welled up in her eyes, but she gulped and choked them back. She had tried so hard to convince herself his sacrifice had been for everyone, but now she couldn't deny it anymore.

"Why? Why me?"

"Because you see me, Halea, only you have ever truly seen me. Only you have ever cared about my pain, only you could see it, and only you have ever tried to bring happiness into my life. How could I ever kill you? I defied my Goddess and shirked my duty, all to protect you. Please…can't you trust me?"

"Lord Anshar, I do trust you…it's just…I…"

She gasped in shock as he effortlessly yanked her spear from her trembling hands and tossed it to the ground beside her.

"You won't need that anymore," he explained as she looked up at him in horrified confusion.

"All my long life, I have faithfully served Tiamet, and prayed every day that an end would come to all our suffering - but an end never came. Countless lives have been lost, and for what? We are only prolonging the inevitable. The very order of the universe is being defied by not allowing Chaos to converge with our world. If the convergence could only happen, everything would be different; there wouldn't be any more tears or demons, no more suffering, no more death. We could be free. We could both be free, Halea, you and I, together."

He had clasped her upper arms and pulled her into him, causing her to wince in discomfort at being so close against his sharp armor. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his as he gazed down at her, and she was sure he could feel her trembling uncontrollably.

"Don't fight anymore, Halea," he said softly, as his face leaned down towards hers, but then she felt it. In that one moment, she had allowed her block to slip, and the flood of emotions from Varg forced her to shake off the confusion from her mind.

"Please, don't," she pleaded as she quickly turned her head before his lips could claim hers, and that was when he saw it - the mark. Her hair had moved aside revealing the prominent mating mark emblazoned upon her flesh, and anger both hot and deadly seized him as he was forced to remember.

Images flashed before his mind, scattered and confused among moments of darkness and terror, but it all came rushing back to him. The wolf. She had given her love to another. She had given her soul to another.

She watched in fear as Lord Anshar's eyes became elliptical in shape and his face twisted in what appeared to be pain and anger and even confusion, his grip becoming painfully tight as he seemed to shake with rage. She could tell something wasn't right with his mind. She could see it clearly now. The Chaos had done something horrible to him, twisted him into some dark shadow of his true self, and she could sense Varg panicking on her behalf across their bond.

"Lord Anshar…please…you're hurting me…"

"You gave yourself…to HIM!" he shouted, and she tried to pull away, but he would not allow her, and his grip only tightened.

"You were not meant for him; you were never meant for him! I will destroy him! I will erase this mark. I will…"

He stopped and gasped as a dart shot into his throat, causing him to release Halea from his grip as he staggered back and removed the projectile.

"Run, Halea!" shouted a woman's voice, and Halea looked in time to see Mama Dragon tucking away her blowgun. Without another thought, she turned, snatched her spear from the forest floor, and took off into the trees with the priestess as Lord Anshar staggered and growled in frustration. He moved to stop her but only fell to his knees as the toxins in the dart began to blur his vision and cause the world to spin.

"Halea!" he shouted into the night after her.

Halea could hear Lord Anshar calling for her, but she did not look back as she ran beside Mama Dragon as they moved deeper into the forest. "Hurry! That tranquilizer would have instantly knocked out any other therian, but for one as powerful as Lord Anshar, it will only slow him down. You must reach the safety of your mate before he can recover."

When Mama Dragon was sure they were far enough ahead, she skidded to a halt and turned to Halea. "He is killing priestesses, Halea. I have to go back to Antherose and warn the others. You must return to the lycans. We can only hope he would not dare to attack so many other therians in their stronghold just to get to you. You must stay close to Varg. I think he wants to break your bond," she explained. Mama Dragon had arrived in time to hear Lord Anshar threaten Halea's mate. The fact that he had not killed her when he had the chance only confirmed a suspicion she had long held.

"But he can't; that's not possible," Halea cried as she caught her breath.

"I have seen therians steal mates from other therians where I come from. Stay close to Varg. You two must protect each other at all costs. Lord Anshar is mad; there is no telling what he will do."

"But how will you get back? He's still out there!"

"Rufus will guide me," explained Mama Dragon, and for the first time Halea looked up to notice the falcon soaring above.

"That won't be enough, once he's recovered, he could track your scent. Here," she said as she pulled a small flask from her robe. "Drink this. It will hide your scent from any therian, but you must promise me you won't tell anyone about this. No one at all, please."

"I give you my word, Halea," she said as she accepted the small flask and Halea watched as she opened the small container, only to stop and look up at her with worried eyes. "But what about you? He'll track you."

"He won't hurt me…I'm sure of it, but if what you say is true, he'll kill you if he finds you. We passed a stream a little way back; I'm sure that's the one that will lead me home. If I hurry, I can safely make it into lycan territory. Please, take it."

Mama Dragon nodded and quickly downed the potion. "Hurry now, Halea."

"Wait!" cried Halea as Mama Dragon turned to leave. "He said he wants our dimensions to converge. He said we should stop fighting it."

"He's not the same Lord Anshar we once knew, and if he thinks we're going to give up the fight, he's got another think coming."

"Thank you," said Halea as she embraced the motherly priestess before they split apart and sped in opposite directions.

She could sense Varg was coming for her, and she had to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Creepy new demons! What does it mean? Well Lord Anshar does not seem particularly happy to learn Halea's got a mate. This might be bad news. What's Varg going to do? Tune in next chapter to find out. Same bat time. Same bat channel!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading the story. If you're this far into book 2, I take it you're enjoying the story. If so, please let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys!


	7. The Swordmaster

Halea ran along the edge of the stream, and the further she went the more things began to look familiar. She didn't bother to hide her emotions from Varg as she ran, more than ever she needed to feel their connection, it was the only comfort she had.

"Halea!" she heard Varg shout in the distance. He had picked up her scent on the wind.

"Varg, I'm here," she called back as she ran in the direction of his voice until at last, she saw him. She leaped into his arms the moment she was near and instantly broke down in uncontrollable sobbing as the gravity of their situation finally broke her.

"Halea, what is it? What happened to you? Are you okay?" he asked, still panicking on her behalf. He could tell something had attacked her. She reeked of demon and something else, something familiar.

"It's…back…Varg. It's come…back. Everything," she struggled to explain between gasping breaths laced with tears.

Dread gripped his heart at her words. There was no enemy he feared, but the Chaos Dimension was something beyond his control. It was something that could not be fought with sword, or fang, or claw; it was a force of destruction that even he, the Wolf King, was powerless to stop. The most terrifying thought of all was knowing that Halea was still the last priestess to be chosen as the sacrifice that was required to banish the convergence of the Chaos Dimension. He could let nothing take her life.

"Come, we're going back to the den; now," he ordered as she scooped her up into his arms. She had run through half the night and was exhausted, and he wanted her as far away from the edges of his territory as possible.

She didn’t argue as she rested her head on his chest as he raced through the forest. She wanted him as far away from Lord Anshar as possible, especially considering she didn't know how long Mama Dragon's dart would sedate him. As far as she knew, he could have already recovered. She would explain once they were within the safety of the den. If she told him everything that had happened now, he would insist on going back and challenging Lord Anshar, and though Varg was the most powerful lycan alive, he was no match for the dragon demigod. The last time they had battled, Varg had nearly paid with his life. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

It was nearly an hour before dawn when they finally arrived at the outskirts of the den. She had managed to sleep a little in his arms as he had carried her across their hunting grounds, and he had moved a little slower to keep from waking her.

"You're safe; we're home now. Everything will be all right," he promised her, as she opened her bleary eyes and sighed in relief to see the lycan civilization before her.

"Varg, there's something else I have to tell you."

"You need more rest. Can't it wait a few hours?"

"A lot of it can, but not this," she said, and he gently set her on her feet.

"They can't have you back. You're not a priestess anymore. They can go to hell if they think they're going to use you again!"

"It's not that. It's just that…the Chaos Dimension isn't the only thing that has returned. Lord Anshar is alive," she explained, and she watched as Varg's eyes flashed red.

"The dragon! He's still alive! How?" suddenly Varg remembered the strange and familiar scent upon Halea. Some other male had dared to touch his mate! "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" he growled as his eyes grew redder by the second.

"He didn't hurt me, not really."

"I will not let him kill you. Where is he now?" he demanded.

"Please, Varg, you have to calm down. He…wasn't trying to kill me. That's not really what he wanted." She took a deep breath as her mate stared down at her in confusion and anger. "He…well…I think he's in love with me."

She was expecting him to start shouting and swearing, but even worse, he became deathly silent, and she watched as he trembled with rage, the sound of his growl growing louder by the second. The muscles around his jaw clenched as his fangs began to grow.

"Varg?"

"I'll kill him! Where…is…he?" he asked in a voice lower and deeper than his usual, and she knew he was perilously close to losing control.

"You can't kill him! No one can destroy a being that powerful. He's lived for ages, and he's the grandson of a goddess. The last time you fought him, he nearly killed you!" she argued.

"I am not some coward who would let another male think he can take my mate," he growled.

"I know you're not. That's why I didn't tell you sooner because I knew you would try to go after him. Varg, please understand; I love you. I can't lose you," she pleaded as new tears poured from her eyes.

He couldn't help capturing her in his arms again and pulling her tightly to him. He could sense her overwhelming fear, and it mirrored his own. Neither could go on without the other.

His whole life he had trained to be a warrior and prepared himself to become the alpha of his people, and now he was their king. None had ever defeated him in battle, none except for the dragon therian, and it had always left him feeling bitter and ashamed. If not for the dragon's mercy, he would have been unable to save Halea's life. His pride made it difficult for him to be grateful for that sacrifice, though rationally he knew he should have been. His only comfort had been in knowing that the dragon was dead and gone, but now that same therian has returned from the dead, and he dared to lust after his mate. It was an insult too insufferable to bear.

"What did he say to you?" he finally asked.

"Oh, Varg, he's gone mad, absolutely mad. He's not the same Lord Anshar anymore. He said he wants the convergence to happen. He told me not to fight it anymore."

"And?"

She swallowed, as she knew that was not the information that most concerned him. It was time to tell him everything. "I didn't think he cared for me that way. I thought, perhaps he sacrificed himself to save our world, but he told me he did it for me. He told me he wanted the convergence to happen so that he and I could be together. He tried to kiss me again and then he saw your mark…"

"He tried WHAT? Wait…what do you mean, again?"

Halea cringed and looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes, which she was sure were turning red again. "He kissed me just before he threw himself inside of the Chaos."

Any semblance of Varg trying to control his temper was gone. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded in a cold and frightening voice.

"I didn't wish for him to do such a thing! He just did it before I even realized what was going on. I didn't even understand why at the time. The last thing he told me was to "be happy." I thought…perhaps he was just saying goodbye. At that moment, I think he did truly want me to be happy, because at least then he was himself, but now…now he's someone different. Something happened to him in the Chaos. You've seen what happens when people even look into it. He was in there! Somehow he survived. I didn't tell you about what he did before because at the time you were so badly injured, I was afraid for you. I nearly lost you, Varg. I couldn't afford to upset you when you were hanging onto life by a thread, and besides, it didn't matter. I cared for Lord Anshar as a friend and a mentor, but my heart has only ever been yours, and I was certain that Lord Anshar was dead and gone forever. I felt so sorry for him…perhaps I still do."

Varg could smell that she was telling the truth, as well as sense the sincerity of her words through their bond, but it hurt no less.

"You kept something important like this from me to spare my feelings?"

"No. I kept it from you so you wouldn't be angry!"

"Anger is a feeling!" he shouted. "Is there anything else you want to bother with telling me?" he added with a snarl.

Halea sighed. "Nothing else happened. Mama Dragon saved me, she shot him with a tranquilizer dart, and we were able to escape. She said he's killing priestesses. Before I escaped, he said he wanted to destroy you, to break our bond, but he can't have me now. I belong to you."

"He can if he kills me."

"What?" she cried. Mating bonds were supposed to be for forever. If a lycan lost its mate, they too would die.

"You're not a lycan, Halea. Losing you would be the end of me, but not for you, you're human, you could survive my death. My death would break our bond; you'd be free. If he truly wants you, he'll have to go through me."

"But I don't love him!"

"It may not matter. There are many different types of therians, and not all of our mating rituals and laws are the same. A lycan cannot form a successful bond with an unwilling mate, that's not how it works for us, but other therians are different. Some therians can claim a mate whether their chosen wants to be with them or not. I don't know much about dragons, but if he said he would destroy me to claim you, then he's a threat. Mark my words; I will kill him."

Halea was horrified; she couldn't imagine the once kind and noble Lord Anshar doing such a low and heinous thing. Would he really kill Varg and force her against her will? But she had to remind herself the Lord Anshar who made that threat was not the same Lord Anshar she had once known when she was a girl. She couldn't forget the madness in his eyes or the way he reacted upon seeing her mating mark. No, he was not the same man. He was dangerous now. As much as she didn't want to believe it, Varg was right; Lord Anshar was a threat.

She trembled all over as a cold sweat gripped her and panic seized her heart. "I can't lose you. Just because I'm human doesn't mean that I can go on if anything happened to you. I couldn't! I just couldn't," she shouted as she cried and buried her face in her hands. The bond was as powerful for her as it was for him, the mere thought of their connection ever being severed, of never being with him again, filled her with fear and pain beyond measure.

He wanted to be angry with her for having kept such a secret from him, but he couldn't bear to see her in such pain and fear. He had always hated to see her cry. She was the other half of his heart, and he couldn't deny her when she needed him.

"Forgive me, Halea. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. I know how you feel. I feel the same. No matter what, I won't let him have you," he promised as he clutched her to him and gently ran his hand over her hair, trying his best to comfort her and cursing himself for having hurt her.

"I don't know what to do," she sobbed into his chest as he held her.

"We're going to find a way," he replied.

* * *

As soon as they returned to the den, he led Halea straight to their cave and into bed. She was exhausted, and her emotions were in utter turmoil, and his own were not much better.

"Rest, I'll be back in a few hours."

"No, please stay with me," she cried as she clasped his wrist and tried to stop him from leaving.

His wolf was clawing him from the inside. His mate needed him, and it was such a hard instinct to deny, but he had to speak to someone. There would be no peace for him until he had answers. He softly ran his fingers through her dark golden hair.

"I'm not going far. I won't leave the den. I have to speak to Batsuba. I need her wisdom now more than ever; we both do. And you need sleep. I'll come back as soon as possible. I promise," he said as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Reluctantly she let go of him. She was too tired to argue.

Not many lycans were up before the sun, and he wasted no time heading straight for Batsuba's tree-dwelling.

"Batsuba, forgive me for waking you, but this is urgent," he called as he approached her doorway. Her tree-dwelling had no door because as the pack healer her home was always open to those in need, but he still felt bad. The lights were out, and she wasn't sitting in her usual place surrounded by her herbs, so he knew she was in a different room sleeping.

Eventually, she emerged, tired-eyed and cross, but knowing well enough not to complain. If her alpha was in her doorway at this time of the morning, it was probably something serious, and there were times when even she knew it was inappropriate to sass off to her leader.

"Come in, Varg," she said with a yawn, and she immediately began stoking her fire. She was going to need a strong caffeinated tea to help her wake up at such an hour.

"What is wrong? I smell anxiety…and fear? Is Halea all right?" she asked. She could smell the human female's scent on him, so she knew she had returned from her trip to the human civilization, even though it seemed early for her to be back.

"She is safe, for now, but that's the problem. She may not be safe for long; the dragon has returned."

"The dragon?" she asked, still trying to wake up. Her mind was just not going to be sharp until she had her tea.

"Anshar. _The_ dragon," he explained, and he tried not to cringe as he recalled how the dragon's claws had nearly torn his body to shreds. He still bore the scars of that battle. He had been in such a deep blood rage when they had fought, a lot of his memories of the confrontation were blurry, but he would never forget one thing; seeing the dragon therian raising his sword against Halea.

Batsuba could tell he was remembering things that angered the alpha within him as she watched the red begin to rim around his eyes. The moment he mentioned the name of the Dragon Lord, her mind quickly put together all the pieces.

"He is a powerful being indeed to have survived the Chaos Dimension. I take it; he is mad?"

"How did you…"

"I may not have had any caffeine today, but I'm not stupid! No one may look into the face of madness, not even a therian such as the mighty Lord Anshar, without suffering the consequences. But how has he returned? Why wasn't he killed?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. All I know is that he wants Halea. He wants my mate, and I will destroy him if he tries to take her," he said with a growl. Batsuba ignored his outburst and poured the water for her tea.

Batsuba did not have to ask him to clarify what he meant by Lord Anshar wanting Halea. She had suspected the dragon's altruistic act of mercy had held far more significance than Halea had wanted to believe. She also knew that such a defeat had been a terrible blow to her alpha's ego and he had been resentful ever since.

"You want to save your mate, but you can't. Even the Wolf King is no match for the Dragon Lord. He is very close to his godly lineage, and he has lived through many ages, there is no one alive that could defeat such a being. He is too powerful, Varg…even for you," she explained as a sorrowful expression fell over her face.

Varg clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "You expect me to just stand idly by and let that bastard take my mate? I don't care who or what he is; I will kill him! There has to be a way. I have come to you for help, and yet you tell me there is no hope. I won't believe that!"

Batsuba sipped her tea in silence as her alpha eyed her angrily. She was on treacherous ground. An alpha was never more vicious than when they perceived their mate to be in danger. His rage and the Great Fang was the only reason he had survived his last battle against the dragon. Suddenly, a memory returned to her.

"There was once one who existed between this world and the next. Though few sought his wisdom, for he had the power to see into the future, and there are things even the wisest are never meant to know. The keeper of shadows. The collector of souls. He who sees the living and the dead. The Crow. The Swordmaster. Corbin. I don't think anyone has spoken to him in over an age, but because he can pass through to the other side, he has the knowledge of the gods and the dead. He was the greatest swordmaster this world has ever known, but also a master of any weapon, especially divine weapons touched by the gods. The Great Fang holds many secrets, Varg, things even your father never dared to discover. It is not wise to question a gift of the gods, but if anyone could have discovered all there was to be known about the Fang, it would have been Corbin."

"Where is he? Where can I find him?"

"He may not even exist anymore; an age is a long time, even for a therian. Anything could have happened to him, but if he is still alive, he would be beyond the eastern mountains. Perhaps Ethelwolf would know more as Corbin lived just beyond the eastern border of his territory and he is a wise old alpha for not yet being an elder."

Varg rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. The Fang was powerful, it was a gift of the ancient wolf gods, and only the true Wolf King could wield its power, but he was no swordsman. He had been trained to fight and to be a powerful warrior by his father, but his father had barely ever used the Fang and Varg had no real knowledge of swords. Perhaps if this crow therian were still alive, he could teach him how to use the Fang properly, or at least help him to know the secrets of his weapon. He had to become more powerful. Halea's life was at stake.

"If he's out there, then I'll find him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: What's this? A quest to slay the dragon? Well, it looks like Varg took the news about as badly as to be expected. Can he really defeat Lord Anshar? And who is this mysterious Swordmaster? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. Same bat time. Same bat channel.
> 
> Thank you to all my readers and for everyone who is sweet enough to leave me comments. I absolutely LOVE hearing from you guys. Please keep letting me know what you think of the story.


	8. Shattered Hopes

"No! That's not true!" shouted High Priestess Maven. "I won't believe you!"

"It's true. He murdered Denji and attacked Halea, and I've heard that Josephine's body was found with a stab wound to her chest."

"It was a demon attack," argued Maven.

"Hundreds of years of fighting the servants of Chaos, and now Josephine falls in the line of duty? It can't be a coincidence. Lord Anshar has declared that priestesses will no longer be needed. Mark my words; he intends to kill every single one of us. The Chaos has warped his mind."

"And how do you know? How is it that you gained this information and survived if he is as bloodthirsty as you say?"

"I overheard him when he killed Denji, and again when I rescued Halea. I was able to avoid being detected. I have fought therians before. I know how to survive," she lied. She could not reveal that Rufus had been the one to witness Denji's murder without endangering his life, and she had also sworn to Halea that she would not speak of the scent masking potion. She considered telling them about Lord Anshar's true motives for attacking Halea, but she decided such information was not necessary, and would only compromise the tenuous ground she was already on with the High Priestess. She silently prayed Maven would not question her sources any further.

Several other senior priestesses and clerics, including Uro, had joined their meeting and as Mama Dragon looked upon them, she watched as the blood drained from their faces. Betrayed by Lord Anshar. To serve the Goddess for centuries and find that their greatest hero and the head of their faith had fallen utterly into darkness had caused them all to collapse into despair and hopelessness.

"Send the ravens. Everyone has been returning to Antherose; we must stop them. If we're all gathered here together, it'd be all too easy for him to eliminate every single one of us. He could raze this castle to the ground if he takes his true form and we would be powerless to stop him. The priestesses must be warned. We must all go into hiding. He will kill everyone that he finds."

Silent tears streamed down Maven's cold cheeks as she shook her head in disbelief. Lord Anshar was the grandson of Tiamet; he was almost a god. He had been their savior for ages, fighting for their world, their lives. Sophia had to be wrong. Those priestesses must have been doing something wrong, something to anger him. Perhaps he had sensed them doubting their faith in Tiamet? Halea had turned her back on Tiamet to be with that filthy shifter; he was right to attack her. Of course, they had failed him in their devotion. His disappearance had only been a test of faith, and they had failed him, and he was punishing them not believing in him and the Goddess.

"No," she finally replied in a low tone as her moist eyes burned.

"What? You can't be serious! Our priestesses must be warned; their lives are in danger!"

"Where is your faith, Sophia? Would you turn your back on our Lord so quickly? He has never acted without reason! We must not waver in our loyalty. He would never punish a true servant of Tiamet. Never!"

All of the priestesses and clerics except for Mama Dragon gasped and muttered in shock at the High Priestess's declaration.

"And what say you?" asked Mama Dragon of the senior priestesses and clerics.

They looked nervously amongst each other. Lord Anshar stood accused of madness and murder, and the evidence surely seemed to prove that he had fallen from Tiamet's grace. Not only would they have to defy their Lord, but they would also have to defy their High Priestess. It seemed too much to accept.

At last, it was senior priestess Gwen who broke the silence. "No one has ever seen beyond the face of madness and into the true heart of the darkness. The Chaos Dimension corrupts all who gaze upon it. We have two dead priestesses and a witness. Perhaps a demon could have attacked Josephine, but Sophia says she witnessed him murder Denji in cold blood. Denji was a true believer and our strongest priestesses. I refuse to believe this is merely a test of our faith. Our Lord has been corrupted. I say we should send the ravens and abandon the castle before it's too late. I also think it's time we notify the capital of the gravity of our situation. We've put it off for long enough."

Since Lord Anshar's disappearance, they had avoided sending reports to the king and high council in the capital city. How could they make an official report when they had no idea what had really happened or if the danger was even over? The ruling powers had rarely concerned themselves with the Tiamet worshippers as long as they fulfilled their duty to fight back the Chaos and prevent the merging of the dimensions, but the practitioners of the faith had fallen out of favor since the devastation of the convergence that had destroyed the holy city of Ruinac. The loss of the city and so many lives had blackened their reputation, and since then the king and his high council had demanded more accountability and transparency from the priestesses and Lord Anshar. If they had notified the capital that Lord Anshar had disappeared without a trace, panic would have swept across the land, but with the return of Chaos, they had no choice but to report to the high council of what was happening.

"I'm afraid I must agree," added Uro. He had spent too many years studying the nature of the Chaos to believe anyone, even the mighty Dragon Lord, could survive such a realm without becoming tainted by the evil that lurked beyond their dimension. The news that Lord Anshar had attacked his granddaughter made his chest ache, and he hoped another attack wasn't coming on. Lord Anshar had always been so fond of Halea; he had helped to train her. He had saved her life when she was a girl, and he had spared her from the sacrifice. He could not imagine Lord Anshar harming any priestess, especially not Halea unless something was very wrong with him. Sophia had assured him that Halea had escaped to safety, but it was of little comfort to him. If Lord Anshar intended to do harm, there would be none who could stop him.

Slowly, one by one, the priestesses and clerics all began to speak up in agreement.

"Wretches! Doubters! Run and hide from our Lord like frightened children, and may he punish you all for your lack of faith!" shouted Maven at the top of her lungs as she jumped up from behind her desk, scattering tombs and scrolls and shattering an empty wine bottle before storming out of the study and slamming the door behind her.

They all knew her judgment was heavily compromised and they shook their heads in sadness.

"This will cause a panic when the people find out that Chaos has returned and now we have no savior," replied Gwen mournfully.

"There is no need for the high council to know that Lord Anshar has betrayed us. The return of tears should be nothing extraordinary for our reports. They're used to that news," offered a senior cleric.

"We may have time before a convergence appears again, but we can't hide the truth forever. Lord Anshar is the representative of our faith on the high council, and his absence has certainly been noticed. Maven evidently isn't up to the job of replacing him," explained Uro.

"As if they weren't already breathing down our necks since the last disaster. As a senior priestess, perhaps I should go to the capital as Lord Anshar's representative. I've filled in for him in the past when he was away across the sea. Perhaps I can buy us some time if we tell them he is overseeing one of our foreign temples and we don't know when to expect his return," offered Gwen.

"They'll still have to know the truth eventually. Without Lord Anshar, if the convergence returns, we're all doomed. People have a right to know," argued Mama Dragon.

"How long could that take? Years? Decades? When the time comes, we'll tell them the truth. In the meantime, we owe it to the people to continue with our duties, protect them, and shelter them from fear and despair. Perhaps there is hope yet. Perhaps Tiamet is still with us. Let us not be the harbingers of doom until we are certain the end is inevitable," said Uro, but in his heart, he feared the worst.

"I will prepare the ravens," said Mama Dragon.

* * *

_Her heart was pounding. Seas were churning. Thunder was in the sky. Sharp silver eyes watched from the shadows, and a sword loomed above her head. When she turned from the wielder of the blade, she saw her mate lying in a pool of blood - blue eyes frozen towards the heavens. A scream tore from her throat._

"Varg!"

"I have you. It's okay. Everything is okay, Halea," he cooed as he held her thrashing and trembling body. She was dripping with sweat, and her heart was beating faster than a bird. He could tell something had been haunting her dreams, and he had been conflicted about whether or not to wake her knowing how tired she had been, but now he was regretting that he had let her get to that state. "You're safe. I have you," he promised as he rocked her gently against him. He had returned to her side as soon as he had finished speaking with Batsuba.

"I saw you dead. This is my fault. I've brought this all on you."

"Look at me, Halea," he ordered, and eventually she turned her tear stained face to meet his gaze.

"It was just a bad dream. Nothing like that is going to happen. I won't let it. You did not ask for any of this to happen. I'm not about to let you blame yourself. You have enough worries without adding guilt."

She still couldn't shake the feeling that she was more trouble to him than she was worth, but there was nothing to be done about that. They were eternally bound by blood and spirit. All she could do was fight for him as much as he was willing to fight for her. As terrifying as the future seemed, she could not let fear control her. She and Varg belonged together. They had always belonged together. She had everything to fight for.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just got to pull myself together. I've faced the Chaos my whole life and never backed down once. We'll find a way, somehow."

Varg seemed pleased that she was regaining some of her spirits. Even though she was no longer a priestess, she was still a warrior. She was not frightened for herself, but for him. It was easier when she had thought she was alone in the world, but now his life was literally tied to her own, and for that, she could never afford to be weak. She had to fight.

"I need to go take care of some business. Will you be all right?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm all sweaty. I think I'll have a bath and then come down. You go on ahead."

After Varg had left her alone in their cave, she took a quick bath in the stone-carved tub. The mountain water was cold but invigorating after the horrible night she had. She combed her wet hair, repainted her contraceptive rune, and put on her blue robe, and as she was getting dressed she idly remembered that she had left her travel bag in the forest when she had escaped Lord Anshar.

" _Damn it. All my travel medicine was in there. I'll just have to collect more_ ," she thought with a sigh as she gathered her herb collecting basket. She was about to leave the cave when she remembered the dagger Varg had given her was still in her red robe, and she quickly turned back to retrieve it along with her spear. With Lord Anshar out there she could no longer afford to be complacent about her safety.

When she came down to the common area she was approached by Ulrica; her young cub Daisy was in a harness attached to her back with nearly her whole fist shoved into her mouth.

"Welcome home, Wolfmother. Varg asked me to make sure you ate as soon as you came down. There's human food waiting at the fire pit."

It was between normal breakfast and lunch hours, and the common area was mostly vacant as the lycans were about their business for the morning. She smiled to see Ulrica and her adorable child again. Daisy regarded her with wide eyes and pulled her fist from her mouth long enough to babble something incoherent, but Halea could tell by the smile on the toddler's face that she was in a pleasant mood.

"Thank you so much. I guess I am hungry, and please just call me Halea, at least for informal occasions," she asked, not for the first time, not for the last.

Anxiety passed over Ulrica's face at the request.

"I insist. And no, Varg doesn't mind what you call me. I promise." She said trying to ease the she-wolf's fears. In lycan society, pack members were always required to show respect and submission towards their alphas, but it felt wrong to have anyone submit to her, even if it was her right as Varg's mate. Since being mated, she had left the role of authority entirely to Varg.

Most of the pack had accepted to her. She made their alpha happy, and she had saved many lives with her ability to purify wounds left by the weapons of the Chaos Dimension. Quite a few had struggled with indebtedness towards her until she became a member of the pack, but once someone was a member, helping your pack is to be expected. There were those who regarded her with indifference, but at least they caused no trouble. It was the few who still hated her, and who disapproved of Varg taking a human for a mate, that concerned her. They would never dare voice such opinions around their leader unless they wanted to face their alpha's wrath, but she knew how they felt because they avoided her whenever she came near. Occasionally, she would feel disapproving eyes upon her as she walked among the lycans and hear whispers when her mate was not around. She never mentioned it to Varg. She did not want to cause trouble for him among his people, and if he punished them, it would only make his people resent her existence even more.

"You must challenge them!" argued Batsuba when she had once overheard one of the hunters complaining about Varg's human mate. "Lycans respect strength from their alphas. If you act submissive, they will continue to behave like you are nothing but a weak human. You can be a proper alpha bitch. I have seen it. You must assert your dominance."

"What do you want me to do, go out there and start a fight?"

"That would help actually, yes."

But Halea did not want dominance over anyone. She had managed to win the approval of most of Varg's people by helping and showing she meant no harm, and she wanted to believe that perhaps the rest just needed time to get to know her, or to at least accept the idea of her being Varg's mate.

Lyall had despised her at first, but when he had seen her good intentions as a priestess, he had relented and even apologized for her previous behavior towards her. She could tell he still somewhat disapproved of her. The mating did not sit well with the older lycan. Lyall had been an old friend of Varg's father, and they had been a lot alike in their ways of distrust towards humans. He had given up on open hostility towards her, but the old warrior was far from approving of her. She could only hope that eventually, he would stop resenting Varg for having chosen a human for a mate.

"If you insist," relented Ulrica with a submissive bow of her head and Halea tried not to groan at the gesture. Instead, she chose to change the subjected as she walked with the she-wolf towards the alpha's fire pit.

"Daisy looks so happy today."

Ulrica immediately brightened up when the topic turned to her precious cub. "I'm grateful she's always such a happy cub. Especially considering that she's still teething and she won't quit chewing on things."

"I noticed," replied Halea with a laugh as she observed that the lycan tot had progressed from putting her own hand in her mouth to gnawing on the back of her mother's leather shirt.

"My back is covered in drool and spit-up, but that's motherhood."

Halea cast her eyes down to her contraceptive rune with a pang of sadness. When she had been a priestess, she had accepted that motherhood was simply something she would never experience and truthfully the thought had never crossed her mind. After she became free from her priestess oath, she had allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to someday raise a family with Varg. At first, she hadn't even been sure if it were physically possible for humans and lycans to reproduce with each other, but when she had spoken to Batsuba, the old healer had assured her that such a thing was possible, though extremely rare. She had also warned her that a half-therian would forever bear the burden of never being entirely one half or the other. Such a thought had given her pause at first. Maybe it was wrong to bring a child into a world that would never truly accept it? She knew all too well what it felt like to be a freak and an outcast, and the idea of inflicting such a life on her own child seemed abhorrent, but after sharing her fears with Varg, he had convinced her that everything would be okay.

"A lycan pack is family - always. Perhaps there are those who would disapprove of a half-wolven, but they have accepted you into the pack, and you're all human. Is your life so terrible here?"

"Well, no, but I'm not a little kid, and I know what it's like to be the odd one out."

"And a lycan managed to like you just the same," he reminded.

"You wouldn't mind a child that's half-human?"

"I would love anything that you give me, Halea because any child we have will be a part of you."

As she remembered her conversation with Varg about someday having children, she felt as if a red hot knife were twisting within her chest. Their world was in terrible danger, and both her and Varg's life were under threat. She could never create a life under such conditions. She knew what it was like to lose her parents at a young age and she would never wish that upon any child. The future was just too uncertain.

Ulrica sat with Halea at the fire pit while she ate and Halea was grateful for the company as it allowed her to keep her mind off her worries, if only for a little while. Eventually, she finished her meal and Ulrica went about her business, and Halea grabbed her spear and herb collecting basket.

"Halea?" she heard Varg's voice call to her as she was about to leave the main den space.

"Where are you going?" he asked when he caught up with her.

She contemplated a snarky remark but decided against it, it was clear he was still worried, and he was probably right to feel that way.

"I guess I shouldn't. Some fresh medicinal herbs are better, but I suppose I better settle for asking Batsuba to share some of her dry supplies with me. It's not like she doesn't have plenty."

He could sense her disappointment, and it crushed him because he had something he had to tell her and she would not be happy about it. Desperate to think of some way to ease the blow of the news to come he remembered something.

"Come with me; there's something I want to show you."

"Is it another cave filled with gold?"

She had managed to coax a smile out of him, for which she was relieved. She was not used to seeing him looking so serious, at least not with her. He simply took her by the hand and led her back through the den towards the southwest.

He had shown her some of the lycan lands in that area before. The forest was thicker and older, the trees wider and covered in abundant layers of moss, but the air always seemed a little warmer which allowed for more variety of blooming flowers in the spring and summertime. Except for the occasional deer, it was not one of their primary hunting grounds as the flatter more wide open grassy spaces of their western hunting lands were better for herd animals. Smaller creatures seemed aware of that preference, and so there was a far greater abundance of foxes, badgers, rabbits, squirrels, birds, and weasels. Lycans would hunt small game on occasion, especially young cubs still honing their techniques, but for the most part, they preferred grazing prey. Halea had been relieved to learn that while lycans would kill trespassing humans, they rarely ate them unless there was a severe shortage of more preferable game. Varg had never eaten human himself, but when he was young, his father had told him that they tasted horrible. He was more than willing to cross humans off the list of living creatures he and his pack would consume, especially because he could never think of such a thing without revulsion knowing his own mate was human. He contemplated prohibiting such acts among the other packs as well, which was his right as Wolf King, and he had every intention of bringing it up at the next Wolf Gathering.

They stopped only a short way into the woods. She could not see the den from where they were, but she knew it wasn't too far.

"I know you wanted a little more privacy, but as alphas, we must remain somewhat close to the den. I figured this was a reasonable compromise."

"This?" she asked.

He gently pulled her in front of him and wrapped one of his arms around her. "There," he said as he pointed towards a cluster of four trees.

She was still wondering what he was trying to show her and she absently regarded the branches as if something was supposed to leap out at her. She heard him give off a deep throaty laugh before he finally explained. "Our home, remember. I picked this spot when you were away."

"Oh, that!" she finally exclaimed and laughed. She had begun to question whether he was running out of more exciting things to show her.

It was a beautiful location. The small cluster of trees wasn't the tallest, but they were quite thick and covered in soft green moss that would be dotted with tiny white flowers when spring came again, and with wide stretching branches. The autumn leaves were large golden and red. The scent of crisp fall air was pleasant, and she couldn't deny that it seemed like a cozy little area.

"Which one?" she asked.

"I'm building our home in all four of these trees," he confessed.

"What?" she shouted, and though she couldn't see Varg's face, he cringed at the uncomfortable volume of her raised voice. "How big is this house going to be?"

He gently turned her to face him, he could sense her spitfire attitude flaring up, but he had been expecting it. "You didn't mind how large our cave was."

"You didn't have to build that," she argued, which was true, the alpha's cave had been there for ages.

"Don't worry. I promise it won't take me long once I start, and space will be necessary. As alphas, it is our duty to be social with the rest of the pack."

She had been worried he'd go overboard and while what he said was true, she was also convinced that some of his desire to build a large home was his need to impress and compete. She suspected he was out to prove he could build the biggest and most elaborate tree house, partly to impress her, and partly to impress the rest of his pack. He had always been a braggart even when they had been kids building tree forts for play. But, there was no stopping his alpha ego, and she had accepted that long ago. She knew it would please him if she were happy and appreciative, and it wasn't that she was not grateful or excited. She had always dreamed of living in a tree, and the idea of sharing such a home with Varg did make her wistful.

At last, she sighed and relented. "It is a beautiful area, and these trees are perfect. Perhaps, just two or three instead?"

"Nope."

She laughed. "Fine, four trees. You can build it as big as you want and I won't complain...much. I am looking forward to moving out of that cave, and I know anything you build us will be beautiful. Thank you, Varg," she said as she reached up on her toes to kiss him and he was more than willing to accept her gratitude as he wrapped his arms around her waist and slowly worked his tongue into her mouth.

No matter what problems lay ahead, her heart always soared out of the darkest depths of hell and into the sun when she was in his arms. Her soul had always belonged to him, and whatever trials or burdens she faced, at least with Varg, she was lucky. He was perfect for her in every way. He had always understood and loved her for who she was, imperfections and all. He did everything to please her and she so desperately wanted to make him happy the same way. At times she worried she could never make him as happy as he made her, but he was always there to reassure her that she was everything he had ever needed or wanted. Thanks to the empathetic link they now shared, she could always sense how much he loved her, and she would never be allowed to doubt it.

Reluctantly, he broke their kiss. Her lips were still glistening where his tongue had tasted them, and he softly stroked the side of her face, her beautiful hazel green eyes mesmerizing him as she regarded him with wide pupils filled with love and desire.

"Halea...there's something else."

As if a winter storm had settled over them without warning, stealing away the warmth they had only just felt, she knew he was going to say something to break her heart.

"I'm leaving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Ooooooooooh the drams! Yes, I am just mean enough to leave you on that cliff-hanger. They'll get worse, I promise. MWAHAHAHAHA. What's going to happen next? Well, a sex scene. We haven't had a steamy chapter in a while, so at least there's that to look forward to. :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and leaving me feedback so far. You guys are some. Please please please let me know what you think of the story so far. Your comments are my bread and butter and they really help fuel my inspiration.


	9. A Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: It's about to get steamy in here. MWAHAHAHA You're welcome ~_^

_Terror. The metallic taste of blood. Invisible claws tearing into his flesh. Darkness. Eyes. So many eyes staring back at him. Some filled with fear. Some filled with hope. Some filled with sadness. They all wanted something from him; something he could not give - a solution. Darkness. Pain. Lips, soft and warm. Darkness again. He could never save them. And then the voice._

_You know the solution._

Lord Anshar opened his silver eyes and winced at the pain of the intrusive sunlight. He had collapsed beneath a tree, and the echo of the voice was still ringing in his mind.

" _I have to end this. It has to be me_ ," he thought as he pulled himself to his feet.

He struggled to recall what happened; how long he was unconscious and what his last memories were. Then more images flashed before his eyes, and he growled and smashed his fist into the tree from which he had risen with such force that it tore from its roots and toppled with a loud crash.

She had a mate.

How much time had even passed since he last saw her? Did she truly care nothing for him? But how could she? He was no man, only a servant, a pawn to the will of the Goddess and nothing more. No. Not her. She never saw him that way. How couldn't she know how he felt for her? She had always seen everything he tried to hide.

The voice lied, there was nothing for him.

A stabbing pain pierced his mind with such force that he groaned and dropped to one knee as he grasped his head between his hands. The light was gone, and suddenly he was in darkness again.

_Remake this world, Anshar, and I will keep my word._

Again he saw her standing before him, her eyes filled with such love and longing, but when he reached for her the image was gone, and he was left trembling alone on the forest floor.

_Remake the world._

Hatred burned hot within him as his eyes took on an elliptical shape. No one would take her from him. That wolf could not keep her; she was not meant for him. He had shown mercy once, but never again. He would free Halea from their bond, and he would make the lycan suffer for his interference. It didn't matter that she already had a mate. It was a mistake. He could make her see that it was a mistake.

He could feel the will of the other pressing into his mind, urging him back to the task at hand. He would have to bide his time. Once the dimensions converged, everything would be different. For now, he had a mission to complete.

He rose to his feet and looked out into the distance. It no longer mattered how much blood he spilled, he would take any life necessary if it meant the world would be remade, and he would see it through.

* * *

"Leaving? What do you mean?" she asked as she struggled to keep her voice on the verge of hysteria from raising and deafening the sensitive ears of her mate.

"The dragon is a threat. Batsuba told me of a crow therian who lives far in the east, a swordmaster, who might be able to tell me more about the Fang. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, that's why you have to stay here, Halea."

"But why can't I go with you?"

"It will take me several days to reach the eastern pack's territory, and longer to wherever this crow is, and I will not risk your life on such a journey. We'd be on our own outside of lycan territories, and until I learn to master the Fang, I alone am not enough to defeat the dragon. It's me he wants dead, not you. The den is the safest place for you. Here you'd have the protection of thousands of lycans. So many already owe you their lives after you saved them from the dark weapons of Chaos. He'd have to defeat an army of wolves if he wanted to take you from here. He'd be a fool even to try it. Still, I don't like the idea of leaving you or the pack behind with him on the loose, but unless I master the Fang, there is no other way. This was not an easy choice to make. This journey is defying every instinct within me that's demanding I stay here to protect you and the pack." He had that stubbornly determined look in his eyes that warned her he was set in his decision.

Perhaps the lycan numbers alone could deter him from pursuing her. Even Mama Dragon had believed there was safety at the den. Halea hoped Lord Anshar wasn't so far gone that he'd destroy countless innocent lives just to get to her. The lycans had done nothing to him and as far as she knew he was only out to eliminate the priestesses, but that wasn't any comfort to her. In his true form, Lord Anshar could take on an army of therians. She could sense through the bond that Varg didn't want to leave his people in danger and there was a terrible conflict within him because he didn't feel he was strong enough to protect everyone and she could tell it was tearing him apart on the inside.

"No one is sacrificing themselves for me. It would be better for everyone if I left the den entirely. There's danger for me either way. Why bring everyone else into this?"

"He knows you're with the lycans now, with me. It's too late; the whole pack is already involved. It's not like my people would be any safer if I took you with me, he'd still look for you here first. But we lycans are not to be underestimated. Lyall and the other warriors will be guarding the borders. If he so much as casts a shadow over this territory everyone will take refuge in our caverns, from there they can escape into the eastern mountains if they have to. We've done it before. Fighting would only have to be a last resort."

"You can't leave me behind! What will I do here without you?" she cried.

"This is your home, Halea. My people are your people now. This morning I made all the arrangements. Lyall will manage the hunts while I'm away. I know he's a grouchy old wolf, but he will obey you. Batsuba will be with you as well, you can continue learning medicine with her while I'm gone, but you must not stray far from the den, not even for herb collecting."

"Varg, my place is with you. I will not be left behind!" she yelled, no longer caring to lower her volume as anger and desperation possessed her.

His eyes grew cold as the muscles tightened around his jaw. "Not this time, Halea. You will submit."

She stopped breathing for a moment as she went cold, then her heart jumped and beat with the frenzy of panic. He was blocking their bond. He wasn't asking as a mate, but commanding as an alpha.

"No," she said quietly as she met his hard stare and clenched her fists. "I will not."

He snatched her against him with such force that she crashed into his powerful chest. She could feel his heart pounding against hers as he towered over her, refusing to break eye contact as he held her captive. Every muscle was tense and hard as stone as he strained against his inner wolf that was seething with rage to be defied. An alpha must never be defied, not even by a mate.

He growled low beneath his breath, the vibration rumbling through his chest, but she was not afraid. She knew he would never hurt her, no matter how much she angered his inner wolf, but she also understood that his beast was taking over, and it was even more stubborn and unreasonable than he was.

"Submit," he commanded again, and she could hear his voice changing as his growl grew steadily louder.

"No!"

The world shifted in an instant, and she was pinned to the forest floor beneath him as he loomed over her with eyes that threatened to turn red. He was snarling now, shaking with rage as he held her down, struggling to overpower her will with his own.

"Stop it, Varg, let me go!" she shouted, but she couldn't even resist against him. He had always been stronger than her and she struggled not to break eye contact, but a shuddering sob threatened to burst from her chest.

"Halea, submit," he growled again. His eyes softened ever so subtly. "Please...I love you."

Tears poured uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes which she squeezed shut as she tilted her head back and exposed her throat. She felt his warm lips against her mating mark, and he released his painfully tight grip on her arms. The bond burst open and overwhelmed her with his emotions. He was in so much pain, but the thing that tore into her soul the most was his fear. Fear of losing her. She wrapped her arms around him possessively, and he quickly returned her embrace. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with such love that it only made the pain in her heart worse.

"I need you," she said.

"I know. I need you too. I can't lose you, Halea. Please understand; I have to protect you. This may be the only way. Promise me you'll stay here where it's safe."

"When will you come back?"

"I don't know, but I swear as soon as I can return, I will. Promise me you will stay."

He was begging her with his eyes and his soul; it was no use.

"I promise."

He gently kissed the tears from her eyes and ran his fingers through the hair that framed her face. She knew this wasn't going to be like when they parted for her to return to Antherose, this would be longer, much longer, and she would be alone with a pack of wolves and the threat of Chaos, and worst of all, Lord Anshar. She didn't want him making a journey when Lord Anshar was out there somewhere waiting to destroy him.

"I will return, and I will always be with you through our bond; so you won't be alone," he said as he sensed the turmoil within her. He softly kissed her lips which opened for him, and he sensed her sudden, urgent, and undeniable need. She reached her hands up and buried her fingers in his thick and wild brown hair as she hungrily explored his mouth.

He broke from her long enough to quickly remove the furs and armor from the upper half of his body then he pulled open her robe, the chill autumn air causing her nipples to noticeably stiffen beneath her breast binding and he noticed her slight shiver. Humans were so much more susceptible to cold than lycans were and he didn't want her getting sick. It probably already wasn't good for her to be lying on the freezing forest floor.

He quickly scooped her up into his arms, and she regarded him with confusion in her eyes.

"There's one more reason why I chose this location," he explained as he dashed off further into the forest until he found it - a secluded hot spring.

Halea felt a thrill of excitement to realize a hot spring was in such a short distance of what would soon be their home. "You really did pick a good spot," she said with a smile and Varg beamed at her praise. There was nothing he wanted more than for his mate to be happy and he was relieved to feel her enthusiasm about his choice for their home, and more importantly, for what he was imminently planning to do to her.

They quickly stripped down and slipped into the warm water that smelled faintly sulfuric. Halea sighed in relief to finally be out of the cold air. No matter how bad things were, Varg always managed to help her forget her worries, if only for a little while, and that was what she wanted more than anything else, to be alone with him and to feel his love once more before fate snatched him away from her.

Varg held her tightly in his arms as he ran his lips along her throat and he knew it wasn't just the spring making him hot. Even in the water, he could smell her arousal calling to him, begging him to please her.

She peppered his powerful chest with kisses as he buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her scent. Her hands roamed his body as she explored every muscle, his straining manhood pressed against her as she gently traced the faded scares over his hard stomach. She heard his growls of desire mix in with a strange snapping sound, and she looked up in surprise. He had broken off all the claws on his right hand. He was usually always delicate and masterful at exploring her body without harming her with his razor-sharp claws, but there were times when he desired the freedom to explore her without the concern of causing harm. His claws would be completely regrown in a matter of hours as if they had never been broken.

He turned her until her back was pressed up against his chest and she closed her eyes and sighed as his powerful hands trailed down her shoulders, his sharp fangs skating along her pulse and up until he was breathing hotly in her ear. Remembering her contraceptive rune, she made sure to keep her left hand above the water by reaching behind her and allowing her fingers to tangle within Varg's hair. He kneaded her breasts with his left hand as his right glided down the plane of her stomach and further until he was stroking her swollen node.

She squirmed against him as he teased her entrance slowly with his fingers, pulling back gently to stroke her clit causing her to fill with torturous desire. She was panting for air and every sweet gasp and moan he elicited from her excited him beyond measure until he had latched his teeth harmlessly against her throat, being careful not to break her skin as he felt his wolf stirring within him. His left arm had to give up the prize of her breasts to hold her more firmly in place as she thrashed in the water as he continued to stroke her. She cried out as he gently stroked two of his fingers inside of her while continuing to torture her clit with his thumb.

"You are mine, Halea. Come for me," he commanded in a throaty voice as he ever so slightly increased the pace causing her to moan.

She cried out his name as he brought her to climax and if not for his supporting grip she would have slipped beneath the water as every muscle in her body fell slack all at once.

"Varg. Varg, I love you," she exclaimed between panting breaths.

"Halea," he groaned as he gently leaned her over one of the boulders that rimmed the hot spring. The cold surface of the stone was smooth and felt refreshing to the touch compared to the now almost sweltering heat of the water and their burning bodies.

He couldn't wait anymore as he mounted her while softly running his hands over her back and down her sides. Even beneath the water, he could feel how slick her entrance was as his cock penetrated deep inside of her. She groaned in bliss beneath him as he slowly began to work against her, being careful to move slowly so as not to disturb the water.

An intrusive thought briefly shattered her moment of pleasure. How could she let him go? What would she do if she ever lost him? What if this was their last time?

Varg sensed her aching heart and wrapped his arms tightly around her, slowing his pace only slightly as he knew she still ached for him. "Don't, Halea. I love you. I'll fight for you until my last breath. I won't lose you, and you won't lose me. I swear it to the gods."

She knew he was tempting fate by making such a declaration, but his words brought her some comfort. She was grateful for the bond that allowed him to understand the emotions she could barely manage to express with words. Their souls were intertwined to such an extent there were moments where she wasn't sure if she was feeling his emotions or her own, or perhaps they truly were the same. Perhaps even before the mating bond had been forged, they had shared an unspoken connection. Despite their differences, they had always understood one another. She could never feel such a connection with anyone but her Varg. He had been the other half of her soul long before they were even mated. She could never forget the pain she felt inside when she had once believed that he was dead. She could never lose him again.

She turned her head to capture his lips as she sensed his ache to comfort her. She didn't want to worry him about her fears; she didn't want anything to spoil this moment as they hungrily kissed. He began to move inside of her at a faster pace again, and she had to release his lips to cry out in pleasure. Every time he sensed her getting close to her climax he would slow down. Not yet. He wanted this moment to last forever, and he knew the more he tormented her, the sweeter her release would be. No one would ever make her feel the way he made her feel. No one would ever possess her heart, body, and soul the way he did. There were those among his people who doubted that a human had the capacity to love with as much intensity as a lycan, but he knew better. He knew his Halea loved him as much as he loved her. He could feel it every day, every moment, and he would never give that up.

"Varg, please," she cried as he pulled back once again. "I can't wait anymore."

"Halea," he breathed into her ear as he tightened his arms around her and began to thrust into her in a way that made the world spin before her eyes. Even he couldn't hold back as the force of her orgasm seized him, and he could feel her tight entrance squeezing and milking his manhood until he released inside of her with a growl.

She was limp all over and deliciously exhausted, and suddenly she ached to close her eyes and welcome the embrace of sleep. Varg had to help her out of the water, and the shock of the cold air momentarily snapped her out of her stupor. He quickly wrapped her in her robe, but with her hair wet she could not escape the chill, and so Varg wrapped his own furs around her as well.

"Don't argue. You know I'm not cold," he quickly stated, sensing her concern. If anything he was still stifling hot from their experience and he regretted having to put any of his clothes back on so soon. It would take him quite a while, even in the chill autumn air, to cool down. He cursed that their new home wasn't yet built if it were he would have her warm in bed in no time. He scooped her into his arms and raced her back to the den. She shivered slightly as the wind blew over her at their speed, but soon they had arrived.

He stoked the fire in their cave while she dried her hair and removed her damp clothes, then slipped beneath the furs on their bed where she shivered as she struggled to regain her warmth. A quick inspection revealed that her contraceptive rune had managed not to wash off during their exploits, but the water had definitely faded it.

" _If we're going to continue to enjoy that hot spring after our home is built, I had better start taking some of Batsuba's contraceptive herbs as a backup in case this ever accidentally washes off,_ " she thought. The lycans had their own ways of preventing pregnancy. There was a strange yellow vine, a weed, that would attach to a host plant and strangle the life out of it, but if dried and ground into a fine powder it could be consumed daily in food or drink, it was exceptionally effective at preventing pregnancy. There were a few other less common herbs and some lycans just avoided intercourse during the female's days of fertility, which, thanks to their powerful senses, was always easy to detect. She certainly wouldn't mind a little extra peace of mind, and she most definitely liked the idea of them returning to that hot spring again.

Once their fire was burning and the cave steadily growing warmer, Varg slipped into bed and wrapped himself around his still shivering mate. With his added heat it didn't take long before she was fully warmed and once again growing drowsy.

"Rest. I promise I'll be right here," he said as he gently nuzzled her with his nose and before long they were both fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Come on Varg! You're going to leave poor Halea all alone with a mangy pack of wolves? What could possibly go wrong? You'll have to keep reading to find out.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story so far. I love hearing from you guys so please PLEASE PLEASE let me know what you think of the story so far. ^_^ Every comment I receive makes me so happy!


	10. Alpha Bitch

Halea shivered in her cloak as they stood together on the northeastern edge of the den, her breath turning to fog in the chill air. The sun had not yet fully risen, and a soft glow of light had only just begun to brighten the sky in the west. It had frosted over in the night, causing a white glaze to form over everything in sight and the leaves to crackle mournfully beneath her feet.

"If you need me, I'll know. Just don't close the bond," he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

She merely nodded her head in agreement. She would need the comfort of their bond just as much as him in the coming weeks, or months, she wasn't sure how long. If any danger struck the den, she would not hesitate to reach for him in an attempt to call him home. Her heart was already begging him to stay, and she refused to hide the way she felt as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

"Look at me," he commanded, and she forced herself to meet his piercing gaze. "I will return as quickly as I can. I swear it. This is your home, Halea. You are my mate, my queen, my Wolfmother, my alpha bitch. You lower your eyes to no one. You bow to no one. You submit to no one but me. When I'm not here, this pack is yours. Don't let anyone, anyone, dare defy you. There is an alpha spirit in you; it's one of the reasons why I've always loved you. If you assert yourself, they will respect you."

She wanted to argue that she was no leader, not like him, but he could sense her doubts through the bond, and he silenced the storm within her soul with a deep and passionate kiss.

Her eyes were glistening when at last he broke their kiss, and he gently ran his thumb along her cheek.

"You're the strongest woman I know, Halea. I don't doubt it, and neither should you. Batsuba and Lyall will help you with anything you need. I've made every preparation I could for the coming winter so there shouldn't be much left for you to do but study your medicine and remain safe. Don't stray far from the den. Take Aatu or Faolan with you if you need to go foraging. Everything will be okay."

"What if he comes?"

"If that dragon comes anywhere near our territory, or if there's any sign of danger at all; call to me, I'll return to you. I'll come as fast as I can."

"Varg, I love you," she said as she embraced him with all her strength, begging him with her soul to not let go - to not leave.

The wolf inside of him was howling. Denying the needs of his mate was contrary to his every instinct, but he had to go. He had to find the swordmaster or risk failing to protect her, and failure was not an option.

"I love you too," he replied as he returned her embrace. Then he pulled away from the warmth of her touch, her face stricken as he turned his back to her, and sped into the trees.

* * *

"Sever the tendon here and then flex the joint. Halea, pay attention!" snapped Babsuba.

Halea suddenly blinked rapidly as if just coming out of a trance and tightened her grip on the sharp surgical knife.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure he misses you, but you can't spend all day getting lost in your bond. Don't you think this is hard enough for him?"

Halea sighed and set down the knife. She wanted to rub her tired, dry eyes, but her hands were still bloody from the rabbit she had just been dissecting. Batsuba had started her training on basic surgical procedures using small animal cadavers.

It was late afternoon now, and she knew he had to be well into the eastern mountains. It would take him several days to reach Ethelwolf's pack. Normally, studying medicine with Batsuba gave her such a feeling of purpose, but since they parted that morning, it was as if all the joy had been sucked out of her life. What would Lord Anshar do next? Would he choose to hunt more priestesses or her mate? She didn't like the idea of either, but she was particularly frightened for Varg. In his true form, Lord Anshar could fly anywhere at will. He wouldn't even have to set foot on lycan soil, but if he did want to make good on his threat, the den would be the first place he would look. So far she had heard nothing from the warriors as she constantly strained her ears for the sounds of distress howls in the distance. Everything remained quiet, and that was her only comfort.

"Mending torn ligaments in therians is simple, the tissue can regenerate with ease, but in these mortal creatures, the damage can be permanent. You'll need to understand how everything is connected."

Halea nodded as she struggled to stay focused on Batsuba as she lectured about the rabbit's anatomy.

They both heard the sounds of thudding steps rushing up the spiral stairs to Batsuba's tree.

"Elder Batsuba!" called Faolan as he barged through the doorway looking flustered. "Halea," he acknowledged with a quick bow of the head. Faolan was on familiar terms with Halea and was more comfortable addressing her by her name than by her alpha title, for which Halea was grateful.

"Ralphina is having lower back pain again. She didn't want me to bother you, but Lycurgus insisted I come," he explained.

Batsuba let out an exaggerated sigh. "Males! They're worse during a pregnancy than the females."

"She's been craving some very strange foods too, like fruit," he said. Ralphina was Faolan's older sister, and this was her first cub.

"Fruit? What kind of fruit?" Halea asked incredulously. Lycans occasion ate fruits, vegetables, or grains, it wasn't unheard of, but it was rare as meat was their primary diet.

"Yesterday it was peaches, but their season's over, so today she wants apples. Lycurgus doesn't want to leave her side right now. She's very far along, and I can't help much myself, seeing as Varg left me with extra sentry duty. I really need to get going before Lyall chews me out. Will you go check on her, Elder Batsuba?"

"Pregnant females have all kinds of odd cravings, though she certainly could have picked a more convenient one. Run along. I'll go check on her and bring her something to ease her back pain."

"Thank you," he said to Batsuba, before turning to Halea where she sat in front of her half-dissected rabbit. "Were you going to finish eating that?"

"What? No!" she replied.

"Great! I didn't have time for lunch," he said as he snatched the rabbit and walked out the door.

Halea stared after Faolan in exasperation before laying down her knife. "I guess the lesson's over."

"It's just as well. You're coming with me," replied Batsuba as she gathered up her medicine bag, but Halea hesitated.

"Perhaps I should stay here and brew a diuretic. I'm sure her feet are still puffy and..."

"Halea," Batsuba said in a stern tone. "You must not let anyone intimidate you here. You are Varg's mate and my apprentice. Lycurgus is just a jackass right now because his mate is pregnant."

"That's not the only reason," she replied with a scowl. The last time she had gone with Batsuba to check on the pregnant she-wolf, Lycurgus had growled at her for coming near his mate. She was convinced that if not for fear of Varg's retribution he'd of physically attacked her.

Batsuba had fixed the volatile male with a piercing glare of authority and instantly silenced him. On top of being an elder, she had never lost the willpower of a true alpha female, and Lycurgus had grievously overstepped his bounds. Lycan males were always protective of their mates, but that protectiveness was only amplified when their mates were pregnant. Lycurgus would suffer no human woman to go near his precious mate while she was with cub. Batsuba wanted to go to Varg immediately and report Lycurgus's defiance, but Halea had begged her, against her better judgment, to let it go.

"An alpha is not to be challenged or defied, Halea. Ever. Not even you, human though you are. If he is not punished for his transgression, he will continue with his insolence, and he will have no respect for you."

Halea could not understand how having Varg beat someone brutally on her behalf would make them respect her. Lycurgus had only growled because he had been acting out on behalf of his mate, and she could see why that might be unnerving for him. Wouldn't it be better to show that she meant no harm and respect his wishes and keep her distance?

"Listen to me, Halea. You will not allow him to disrespect you again. You are an alpha bitch, act like one. Varg isn't here to protect you now. You have to rely on your own strength. Every insolent pup who holds you in contempt for being human will take this as an opportunity to assert their dominance over you, and they will if you let them."

Halea wanted to argue, but she knew Batsuba was right. She had let too many get away with looking down on her behind Varg's back, and she was well aware that with Varg gone if she did not assume her role as an alpha things could become very dangerous for her. With a resigned sigh, she stood up and went to the wash basin to clean her hands, before turning to Batsuba in resignation and following her down into the den.

When they reached the cave of Lycurgus and Ralphina, the normally wide open iron doors were shut as the cold autumn winds were causing more lycans to retreat indoors. Batsuba did not have to knock. Lycurgus had heard the approaching footsteps through the small open window above, and he quickly threw the door open with a scowl.

"I only requested your presence, Elder Batsuba," he grumbled as she shot Halea an angry glare of warning.

Halea met his fierce eyes, refusing to let him intimidate her, though it was not easy. She couldn't help but be reminded of her childhood when the children of the city had made it abundantly clear that she was not welcome among them. Even after all these years, rejection still hurt.

"Where I go, my apprentice goes, and don't think that just because Varg is away in the east that you're going to start ordering his mate around. Now, do you want help for your mate or not?" replied Batsuba in her most authoritative voice, her dark eyes narrowing at the irate male.

Lycurgus hesitated for an uncomfortable moment before opening his doors and allowing them to enter without further word of protest.

They found Ralphina reclining amongst many cushions; her eyes lit up at the sight of her two visitors. She was getting out of the cave less and less as her pregnancy reached its end, and the social nature of lycans made her ache for the companionship of others besides just her mate and her brother.

"I'm sorry to drag you two all the way here again. It's not that bad, but you know how Lycurgus worries over every little thing these days," she apologized. Her solemn mate stood back and kept a close eye on the visitors, especially Halea.

Halea could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head, but she chose to ignore him and focus instead on the she-wolf who was very large with cub.

"It's only a bit of back pain. Though, I am grateful for visitors," continued Ralphina.

Ralphina was not at all uncomfortable with Halea's presence. Halea had saved her brother's life when he had been on the verge of death from being wounded by a dark weapon of the Chaos Dimension, and since then she knew the human woman had earned her brother's respect. She would always feel eternally grateful and indebted to her new Wolfmother. It was strange to have a human as a Wolfmother, but Halea, despite her oddities, seemed nice, perhaps too nice for one who must be an alpha. She did not approve of her mate's distrust or defiance, but she also knew a considerable amount of his unreasonable behavior was due to him being overly nervous about her pregnancy. Instincts, for a lycan, were nearly impossible to overcome.

"No wonder you're having back pain with all these cushions. Tonight when you go to sleep try to lay on a more rigid surface. If that means taking some of the furs and pillows off the bed, so be it, your spine would benefit from flat and firm support."

Ralphina blushed as she explained. "Lycurgus has been trying very hard to make me comfortable."

"And in typical male fashion, he's made things worse," grumbled Batsuba, who could hear a low growl of protest coming from behind her.

Batsuba handed Halea her medicine bag, and Halea went to work preparing the mild pain reliever while Batsuba examined Ralphina. Being a lycan healer afforded her the ability to use her powerful senses to discover any underlying problems that a human would not be able to pick up with their lesser physical capabilities. She could sniff the breath of a patient and detect certain illnesses, or detect faint changes in their hormones. She could use her powerful hearing to listen to heartbeat, pulse, the function of internal organs, or in Ralphina's case, the fast beating heart of her unborn cub. Taking Halea as an apprentice presented the unprecedented obstacle of finding ways for Halea to make diagnoses without the physical abilities that Batsuba had always relied on and taken for granted for ages.

Batsuba handed Ralphina the medicine Halea had just brewed into a tea and encouraged her to drink it.

"All seems well. Your cub has a strong heart and is positioned well for the coming birth," assured Batsuba.

Ralphina sighed in relief. "Well, I've certainly felt some powerful kicks. I'm guessing it will be a boy."

"Even I can't detect the sex before it's born, so don't be so sure. I would like Halea to examine you as well. Halea, come closer."

"No!" shouted Lycurgus with a growl, and he was instantly standing before his mate, blocking Halea from taking one step more. "Don't touch her!"

Halea's heart began to race and sweat rolled down her back. Varg hadn't even been gone a full day, and this was happening. She wanted to turn her eyes to Batsuba to ask for her intervention, but she couldn't avoid the gaze of Lycurgus - he was challenging her.

"Lycurgus, please..." started Ralphina, but Batsuba silenced her by placing a hard grip on her shoulder and meeting her worried eyes with a shake of her head. Halea had to stand her ground and assert herself. She could not intervene again.

She could sense Varg reacting to her anxiety across their bond, but she did not have time to respond to him with her emotions. It was now or never.

She narrowed her eyes at the growling male and in defiance, she stepped forward. He jumped into her face with a snarl, and she could feel his hot breath on her face, but she refused to flinch or even blink as she stared him down. The edges of his eyes began to threaten with the shade of red, but she held her ground.

"I am not going to hurt her. Back down," she said in the strongest voice she could muster.

"I submit to no human bitch!" he barked.

"But you will submit to an alpha bitch," she retorted, and before Lycurgus could react, she had smashed his face with her fist with such force that he staggered back a step.

A look of surprise came over his face as he reached up and felt where a small trail of blood trickled from his nose and when he met her gaze again, the red was gone from his eyes.

Halea continued to stare at the shocked male, and there was a moment of silence so tense, even she felt like she could hear the hearts beating around her.

At last Lycurgus lowered his eyes in submission and moved aside.

Relief instantly washed over her, and to her surprise, she felt a sense of pride coming through her bond from Varg. Somehow, with only her emotions, he had been able to discern exactly what she had just endured. He knew she had finally asserted herself and it took all her strength not to smirk at her mate's reaction. Keeping her face passive, she approached the pregnant she-wolf with her head held high before kneeling down beside Batsuba, who was also struggling to keep the corners of her mouth from betraying her. Her black eyes seemed to be shining, and Halea acknowledged her approval with only the slightest nod of her head before returning to the task at hand.

Lycurgus stayed silent as Batsuba showed Halea where to touch the pregnant female's abdomen to feel for the positioning of the unborn cub. Something beneath the skin moved with force beneath Halea's hand, and Ralphina flinched. Lycurgus's face grew anxious as he sensed his mate's brief moment of discomfort through their bond, but his eyes gleamed with pride and he quickly relaxed as all the females grew excited at once.

"I felt it! I felt the baby kick!" cried Halea in wonder.

Ralphina smiled at Halea's infectious enthusiasm. "I can't wait for him to get here."

"You won't have much longer to wait," replied Batsuba, who, though she tried not to show it, was just as excited for the arrival of another cub. Birthing cubs had always been her greatest joy as a healer, and the experience never grew old no matter how many times she did it. There was something very special about helping to bring a new life into the world. In her heart, every cub born to the pack was just as much hers as it was its parents. That maternal connection to her entire pack was the only thing that kept her alive in the ages since her mate had died. Though she had never born a child of her own body, in her soul, she would forever be a mother.

When they were leaving, Halea looked back for just a moment and witnessed Lycurgus sitting down next to his mate. There was a look of utter love and devotion in his eyes as he placed his hand over his mate's stomach and smiled and Halea felt a pang of sadness in her heart as she finally turned around and left.

That night the fire pit felt so lonely without Varg. Daciana and Ulrica had joined her for the evening meal, and Halea watched as Daisy and Fillin played together while their mothers tried to help take her mind off her sorrows, but it was hard to stay focused on her she-wolf friends, her heart ached for her mate. She could feel him out there, somewhere, missing her too. There was another pain as well, one that she was trying hard to ignore, but it wouldn't go away.

" _What if I never get to know what that's like?_ " she thought as she recalled the loving moment between Ralphina and Lycurgus as they shared the joy in knowing that the life they made together would soon be with them.

"You did well today, Halea," said Batsuba after the other females had left with their children for the night. "You had me worried there for a while, but I knew you could do it."

"I was still scared," she confessed as she stared pensively into her nearly empty drinking cup.

"It will get easier from here. I promise. Lycurgus will not challenge you again. Whether you want to believe it or not, you earned his respect today."

Halea gave a sardonic smile when she finally looked up. "You lycans are so weird. It just seems so impossible to believe that violence can solve all your problems."

"Violence doesn't solve everything, but the world is harsh, and our instinct for survival demands a hierarchy that thrives on respect and power. I know our ways must seem brutal to you, but for as much as we can fight and punish, we can also love and protect. There is a balance, and in time you'll find it."

"Thank you," replied Halea with a resigned sigh.

Batsuba eventually left her alone by the dying fire, and Halea once again became lost in her thoughts. She was just about to get up and turn in for the night when suddenly Batsuba came rushing back to the fire pit.

"Put up a block, quickly!" warned Batsuba.

"What? Why?"

"Do it!" she barked, and though Halea didn't understand the reason she quickly put up a block on her bond with Varg.

There was a commotion as voices grew louder across the den and many lycans came out of their dwellings. Batsuba grabbed Halea by the arm and dragged her away from the fire pit until she discovered the source of all the excitement, and to her horror, she was brought face to face with members of the southern lycan pack - and Rafe was among them. A chill ran down her spine when his dark eyes turned on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Oh, shit! Well, if it isn't our favorite wolf. Mr. Warm and Cuddly himself. What could possibly go wrong? A lot...a lot of things can go wrong. In fact, you guys might really hate me after the next chapter. But I swear, I will get you through it!
> 
> Halea is finally standing up for herself, but will that be enough to save her while Varg is away? Tune in next chapter to find out! Hold onto your butts, it's going to be intense.
> 
> Thank you to all my readers and followers. You guys are awesome! If you're enjoying this story please please please leave me some comments/feedback. Your comments are the fuel that keeps my writing fire burning. I love hearing from you guys and every comment I get does so much to brighten my day, and if you follow me on twitter, you'll know I had a very rough week, so I really could use a pick-me-up. Thanks again everyone!


	11. Fortitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING/A note from your humble author: Okay, guys. Some of you are going to hate me for this chapter. There's some violence up ahead (a lot), and this chapter is going to be pretty rough for some of you to get through. Please bear with me. I know this is a dark chapter, but I promise I will get you through it.

Halea was glad she had listened to Batsuba and put up the block on her bond as panic gripped her heart.

" _Why him? Why now_?" she thought with a cringe.

"Where is Alpha Varg?" asked Rafe as he broke eye contact with Halea long enough to scan the faces of those who had gathered.

All of the lycan packs knew that Varg had chosen the human priestess for a mate, and of all the packs, the southern wolves had been the most disapproving of their union; none more so than Rafe. The mere idea of having a human female for his Wolfmother disgusted him. Priestesses possessed strange witchlike powers and had cost countless lycans their lives when they had failed to seal away the great convergence tear that had decimated the western territories.

Humans were vile creatures. They were weak, and their wretched mortal lives were short and pointless. Humans often attempted to encroach into his territory in the south. They were pathetic hunters who disturbed their prey and scattered the herds. They took from their lands without permission and cut down the forests without regard to the lands ability to sufficiently replenish what was destroyed. Such wasteful creatures cared for nothing but what they could take for their short-sighted, greedy needs. Their mills and forges polluted the very water from which they drank, and their civilizations were breeding grounds for disease.

Humans and therians had warred with each other for ages, and Rafe had yet to meet a human that he did not despise, and of all the humans he had ever hated, he hated Halea the most. She had poisoned the mind of his king, bewitching him into making her his chosen somehow. What could an alpha ever see in such a foul creature? He had always been convinced the priestesses were the true harbingers of destruction, the humans' attempt to finally wipe out therians, and in particular, the lycans. They claimed to fight the demons of the Chaos, but when priestesses were around, there were always more of the creatures. The dragon worshippers may have an allegiance to an elder god, but that didn't mean that they were not still envious of the true children of the gods. He was convinced that if humans could wipe all therians from the face of the world, they would.

"Varg is traveling to the eastern territories. He won't be back anytime soon, but he's left me in charge. Why have you come here?" asked Halea, her voice sounding unsteady as she struggled to address the Southern Alpha.

"You?" he shouted in fury. "He left you in charge of the pack? His human whore!"

Halea narrowed her eyes as anger replaced the fear inside of her. "Watch your mouth, Rafe! I am the Supreme Wolfmother now, and the alpha of this pack."

"Alpha? Ha!" he scoffed. "You reek of fear. You are no alpha, and you are no wolf."

"What do you want?" asked Halea, refusing to break eye contact with the southern alpha who was staring her down in an attempt to intimidate her, but she knew his intent, and she refused to yield.

The tension in the air was palpable as everyone watched the battle of wills between their human Wolfmother and the volatile southern alpha. Even Rafe's betas looked nervous at their alpha's aggressive behavior.

Batsuba wished she could pray to the ancient wolf gods to give Halea strength, but she wasn't sure where the gods stood on the notion of a human Wolfmother, and she dared not risk their wrath. Instead, she turned to the one god who would be on Halea's side. " _Dragon Goddess, if you're there. Watch over your daughter now in her hour of need._ "

It took every ounce of Rafe's control not to kill the human bitch, but Varg would know, and he would surely return to seek vengeance before ending his own life. Rafe knew he would be no match against his Supreme Alpha. He had already lost in combat to Varg once when they had fought for the right to be the Wolf King, and Rafe had been bitter ever since.

"Demons have returned to our lands, and where are these human witches who were supposed to eliminate them? Several months ago, we received word that the convergence had been banished, but now there is an open tear. What of your promises, Wolfmother?" he asked in a mocking tone.

He was right. She had sworn to the lycans on behalf of her fellow priestesses that if there were tears or demons, the devotees of Tiamet would fulfill their duty. The lycan council had agreed to allow the human priestesses into their lands as long as they did their job of eliminating the tears and the servants of Chaos. Even Rafe had been forced to concede to the will of the council. When Lord Anshar had disappeared, and the great convergence tear had closed, the priestesses and clerics that served the goddess had returned to Antherose, and now it was back.

She didn't want to tell him that the Chaos had not been properly banished. He already considered the priestesses to be failures at their duty, and he would not understand, nor give her the chance to explain the reality of the situation. She had to choose her next words carefully, and most importantly she could not lie - as a lycan, he would know.

"The last convergence behaved differently. The manner of its disappearance was...unexpected. All of Tiamet's priestesses and clerics were called back to the stronghold in Antherose to discuss their observations and wait for further orders. I am no longer a priestess because I chose to remain with Varg, but I still have friends who are priestesses, and my grandfather is a cleric. I can try to send word that the tears have returned to your territory. They will return once they learn that the Chaos and demons have come back."

"And how long will that take? Conveniently long enough until we're all dead?" he growled.

Halea didn't have an answer for him. She had no way to predict when the next messenger raven or falcon would arrive and the lycans did not keep such creatures as they sent runners between packs to deliver messages. She could not take the message to Antherose herself with Lord Anshar roaming the land and searching for her, and she certainly couldn't send a lycan to Antherose in her place. She thought about going to seal the tear herself, but Varg had forbidden her from leaving the safety of the den and the western pack, and she had no desire to go alone to the southern territories. She knew all too well that Rafe wanted her dead. She could see it in his eyes. He was not to be trusted.

Her only hope was that Mama Dragon would keep her informed of what was going on outside of the lycan lands.

"Varg has forbidden me from leaving the den in his absence, but I receive messenger birds on occasion, though their appearance is sporadic. When next I receive communication from Antherose, I will be able to send a return message."

"So we're on our own. I'm sure you humans couldn't care less how many lycans die," Rafe growled.

Lyall came up beside Halea and touched her arm, signaling that he wished a word alone with her. Rafe watched with menace in his eyes as the human and the western pack warrior stepped aside, a pointless gesture, he could hear every word they said.

"Perhaps we can spare some of our warriors to aid them until help arrives," suggested Lyall.

"I wish Varg were here. With this territory under threat, I don't know if he would approve of me sending away warriors at a time like this," she mused.

"Threat?" questioned Rafe, who had not hidden that he was listening.

"So Varg has abandoned his den and his territory and left you to fend for yourselves? Some Wolf King he's turned out to be, an alpha's place is to protect his people, and yet he is gone."

"You shut your mouth!" shouted Halea as she stormed forward, her fists clenched tight.

"Varg has gone to the east to master the Fang. As you have noticed, we are all in danger. The Chaos has returned. We need every advantage we can get in case things take a turn for the worse. Everything is more unpredictable now than it has ever been before. If Varg can master the power of the Fang, there's no telling how many lives he could save. He's doing this for all of us, and he will return once he has fulfilled his mission. In the meantime, this is my pack, my people. I am Wolfmother here, and maybe you don't like that, but I do intend to make whatever choices I have to, to ensure our survival, all of our survival - even you. I give you my word, as soon as I can send a message for help, I will. If you need help in the meantime, I'm sure we can spare some of our warriors."

"Keep your warriors, and keep your filthy priestesses. Your word means nothing to me. It's clear that we are on our own, and so are you. We came here for nothing, and we're leaving."

Halea couldn't help but be relieved as Rafe turned, signaled to his betas, and walked away.

"Well...it could have gone worse," said Batsuba to Halea once the southern lycans were gone.

* * *

"What's that?" asked Faolan.

"Chickweed, it can be used for joint pain and skin conditions," explained Halea as she picked the remainder of the leaves that were still salvageable after the previous day's frost. Good medicinal plants were getting scarcer with every passing day as the cold of winter crept down from the north.

Faolan had come along to keep watch over Halea as she scavenged for the last plants that hadn't yet withered for the season. He followed her closely as they wandered around the base of the den's vantage point. Varg had insisted that she be guarded at all times, and so she was not allowed to go far from the den without an escort. He didn't mind. Halea was fascinating for a human.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Fern."

"But what's it for?"

"Do you really want to know?" asked Halea, who was still in a sour mood. There were so many things bothering her, and Faolan's presence and never-ending questions were starting to wear on her nerves. She desperately wanted a moment alone to think, or at least to brood in silence. She knew Faolan could sense that she was upset, especially after the previous day's confrontation with the southern alpha, and was perhaps just trying to take her mind off her worries, but she wasn't interested in anyone's attempts to cheer her up.

"It helps with chest afflictions; asthma, congestion, pneumonia, but if you really want to know why I'm gathering it, it's for worms. That's right worms! What do you think happens when you eat raw meat all the time?" she snapped.

The stomach acid of a lycan was usually aggressive enough to easily eliminate any bacterial or parasitic threat, so worms were an exceptionally rare occurrence, but the ailment did occasionally happen. Fresh meat was their primary diet, and if truly fresh, was usually safe enough for them to consume, but if the meat wasn't sufficiently fresh or was exposed to unsanitary conditions before consumption, even their powerful stomachs couldn't eliminate every contaminant.

"Ew," he replied as he scrunched his face in disgust.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I'm just...under a lot of stress. I didn't mean to take it out on you. How's your sister?"

"Cub's kickin' like crazy. I can't wait to have a little nephew...or niece. Ralphina is still craving fruit all the time. I feel bad for her; she's not getting out much."

"Well, let's try to get her some apples while we're out. There were a couple of trees not far from here, there may not be any left this late in the season and after yesterday's frost, but I would like to try, maybe it would make her feel better," she offered with a smile.

Faolan was pleased with the idea, and before long they found the trees that Halea had last noticed when she was out foraging for medicinal roots among the fallen leaves.

Most of the apples had fallen and begun to rot, but at the upper branches there appeared to be a few ripe fruits remaining. Halea took off her cloak and handed it to Faolan so he could use it to hold the apples. It was chilly out, but the sun was high, and her blue robe would be enough to keep her warm until she returned to the den. She climbed into one of the trees and handed the apples down to Faolan, which he carefully gathered into the cloak.

"That should be plenty," he said after she tossed down one more and he caught it with nimble ease. "Let's take these back to the den. Ralphina is going to be so happy!" he beamed in excitement.

As she carefully came down from the branches, she remembered one more herb she had intended to collect while she was out, the contraceptive vine. She knew that some of the medicinal plants remained at the peak of the vantage point and she wanted to stock up before the coming of winter. She nearly blushed at the thought of having to explain what that plant was for, and she knew Faolan would ask because he hadn't stopped asking about every single herb she gathered since they set out that morning. Living with lycans was embarrassing enough due to so little privacy, the last thing she wanted to do was explain her reproductive practices to the nosey beta male, not to mention, she was still aching for a reflective moment alone.

"Why don't you go on ahead and take those to her. There's one more thing I wanted to collect, it's just at the peak, and I promise I won't be long."

Faolan shot her a nervous glance. Varg had left with strict orders. "I dunno. Aren't you not supposed to be alone right now? What if something happens?"

"All our borders are secured at the moment thanks to Lyall's vigilance. If any danger had entered our territory, we'd of heard about it by now, and I'm not breaking my promise to Varg. I promised to stay close to the den, and I can still see it from up there, plus I have this," she said as she pulled the dagger Varg had given her from the hidden pocket in her robe.

Faolan opened his mouth to argue again, but she cut him off.

"Please, Faolan...I just...I really want a moment alone. Please understand. I'll be okay," she confessed with pleading eyes.

"All right, but just for a short while. If you're not back at the den soon, I'm coming back to look for you."

Halea agreed with a nod and with one last reluctant glance over his shoulder, Faolan left for the den.

Once she was alone, she made her way up to the peak of the vantage point, carefully checking under every plant along the way for the precious yellow vine. Every one she found she delicately removed from its host plant and tucked it into her collecting basket. As she looked for her herbs, she allowed her mind to wander.

She could still feel Varg missing her. She had sensed suspicion and worry from him the night before after she had lifted the barrier on their shared bond, and she had done her best to soothe him. She didn't want him to worry on her behalf more than he already was. Rafe's appearance had upset her, but the cause of her anxiety was indiscernible from the anxiety she had already been under. She had dreamt again of Lord Anshar and the madness she had seen in his eyes that night, and her heart ached at the memory.

She had always admired and cared for Lord Anshar. He had saved her life when she was just a girl, and she could never forget the pain in his eyes when he had been forced to sacrifice the priestess to banish the convergence that had devastated her childhood. He had always tried to hide his sorrows from the world, but she knew he carried a burden that was eating him alive from the inside. He could never hide it from her, no matter how much he tried. She had only ever wanted to see him smile, to erase the pain from his eyes. When she was little, she had tried, in her own small way, to ease his sorrow. She had worked hard when he trained her, and whenever she had pleased him, she had always been happy to see that perhaps her presence had been of some comfort to him. He had always seemed so alone.

He had pushed everyone away but her, and she had thought that they understood each other, but she was wrong. Somewhere, somehow, things had changed between them in a way she could never have anticipated. She was finally able to look back and recognize the signs that she had once been too blind to see. The favoritism, the jealousy when she had first told him of Varg, and the way he had gazed into her eyes just before he stole a single kiss from her lips and vanished from her life.

" _Did I hurt him?_ " she thought in sadness. She had never wanted to hurt Lord Anshar. He had done so much for her. She had only ever wanted to make him happy, but she had never realized that what he really wanted was something she had never been able to give him. Perhaps in a different life, if everything had been different, she could have loved him, but her heart had already belonged to Varg.

As sorry as she felt for what pain she might have caused Lord Anshar, she could never love anyone but Varg. She smiled as she remembered the first time she met that scrawny little wolf boy. She had no way to know just how much that one day would impact the rest of her life. In Varg, she had found the other half of her soul. When she had believed the convergence had torn him away from her, no other man had ever come close to her heart the way he had, even though she had been too young to yet realize the depth of her feelings. There had been no denying the deepest desires of her heart once they had been reunited.

She did not want Varg to kill Lord Anshar, but she also did not want Lord Anshar to kill Varg. If the madness of the Chaos had truly destroyed the man she once knew, perhaps there was no choice. She had seen before how Chaos could utterly destroy the mind. As bad as Lord Anshar was, he was not as bad as those who languished in the Weldison asylum, those who were eternally trapped in the living hell of madness from which they could not awake. Perhaps there was hope? Perhaps he was not so far gone that he couldn't still be saved? But how?

"Tiamet," she whispered as the cold breeze blew her hair across her face and the dry leaves rustled in the trees. "Can't he be saved? Please help him. It's not fair that he has fought for so long only to be abandoned by you in the end."

When she reached the peak of the vantage point, she stared down at the valley and the rushing river below. Lord Anshar was out there somewhere. Her fellow priestesses were in danger. Varg was in danger. The threat of Chaos loomed over her head. She felt so powerless.

"So he left you behind?" asked a voice that instantly struck terror into her heart.

Halea spun around to find herself face to face with Rafe, and she cursed that she let her guard down. She hadn't even heard him sneak up on her.

"What do you want?" she asked, though, in her heart, she already knew the answer. She could see the red beginning to glow around the edges of his dark eyes.

"I want what's best for my people. They deserve better than a Wolf King who abandons them in their hour of need," he replied in a low tone that sent her heart racing.

He had sent the rest of his pack home without him the night before and laid low in wait for just this opportunity. She had been guarded by the beta all day. To avoid discovery, he had masked his scent before he had patiently stalked the human's every move. There could be no witnesses, no evidence of his return or Varg would know that it had been him. He could not kill Varg, but he could kill her, she was his weakness.

Varg had picked up on her panic, and she could feel his concern over their bond. This time she would not block him.

"He did not abandon us!" she argued.

"You should have never come here," he growled as he rushed forth and tackled her with such force that they were both sent flying over the peak of the vantage point and careening down into the rushing river below.

The moment Halea hit the water she let out an involuntary cry as the shock of the freezing river overpowered her senses causing her to involuntarily take in a mouthful of water. Before she could pull up to the surface, she felt claws slicing into her shoulder as Rafe struggled to drag her back below the water. She kicked with all her might, pushing Rafe away from her and causing him to smash into the hard rocks at the river's edge.

She was being washed downriver at such a high speed she couldn't reach the edge. Each boulder she tried to grasp was slippery beneath her stiffening, frozen hands, and with every moment it was getting harder to keep her head above the water. At last, as the river began to bend she snagged onto some tree roots that dangled in the water and began to pull herself onto the bank.

She was trembling with cold and fear and coughing water from her aching lungs as she struggled to get up from her hands and knees, but there was no time to recover as Rafe once again appeared before her, kicking her in the side with all his might and sending her rolling over the bank.

He had pulled himself from the water after he had struck the rocks and he had rushed along the river's edge to catch her before she could get away.

With the air viciously knocked from her lungs, Halea struggled to regain her breath. She could feel that a rib had been cracked, but she quickly jumped to her feet as Rafe came rushing towards her once again. He slashed at her with his claws, but she dodged backward and pivoted away, then moved in with lightning speed and punched Rafe in the ear with all her might.

"You bitch!" he shouted as he swiped at her again, this time raking his razor-sharp claws along her collarbone and causing blood to spurt in the air.

He had been hoping the river would have drowned her, it would have made her death look more like an accident, but he no longer cared in what manner they found her corpse. He would tear her to pieces.

The red was taking over the dark color of her eyes, and she knew his rage would soon consume him. It wasn't just her life; if he succeeded, he would kill Varg too.

Halea could feel Varg panicking on her behalf, he could tell something was attacking her, he could sense her pain, and she knew somewhere he was already coming for her, but it was no use. He was too far away; he would never reach her in time. She was on her own. Her last shred of fear faded from her mind as something inside her snapped, causing hatred and anger to consume her.

"I'm not going to let you kill Varg or me!" she shouted as she lunged for Rafe and began attacking with all her strength. Halea was not as strong as Rafe, but as one who had once been a priestess, she knew how to fight, she had been trained by the best. Using her speed to her advantage, she managed to force Rafe to take a more defensive stance, but it did not take long before the red had completely consumed his eyes and suddenly she couldn't hold him back anymore as he pummeled her again and again. She took his fists to her face and torso, and he managed to kick her feet out from under her and she only narrowly rolled away before he could pounce and slash his claws through her again. She screamed in agony as he raked his claws down her back as she tried to get up and defend herself but the rage had taken him, and she was struggling just to stay out of his grasp.

She dodged another swipe of his claws and ran for one of the trees surrounding the river's edge. When he tried to chase her, she grasped an overhanging branch and used it to swing up and launch herself behind him. Before he could turn to counter her attack, she had landed several successful kicks into his face, causing him to stagger backward as blood began to pour from his nose and mouth, the fire in his eyes only glowing brighter. He let out an inhuman snarl as he charged forth again, and she screamed as he slashed across her stomach causing more blood to spray the forest floor. He punched her face hard, causing blood to fly from her mouth and knocking her to the ground.

She couldn't get up again before he kicked her where she lay, breaking another rib and causing her to scream out in pain.

He grabbed her by her hair and lifted her off the ground, she yelped as she felt some of her hair being torn out by the roots, but she managed to elbow him in the ribs causing him to lose his grip.

She had never fought for her life against a therian before, and though purification was only lethal to demons, she was desperate for any advantage she could get. She felt her powers flow through her as her fists glowed white. Rafe looked nervous for only a moment.

"Witch," he growled as he began pummeling her again, but she put up her best defense and managed to strike one hard blow with her charged fist into his chest. There was a loud zap as her left fist made contact and an uncomfortable twinge shot up her arm. Rafe snarled in pain, but he held his ground. There appeared to be a small scorch mark on his chest, but no greater damage had been done.

"Damn it," she cursed.

They fought back and forth, and no matter how many times she struck him with her charged fists, he would not fall, and she could feel her strength wavering with every moment. Rafe took advantage of her exhaustion and slashed into her with his claws over and over until her blue robe was shredded and stained red with blood.

He seized her by the throat and lifted her into the air above him, and she could feel his grip tightening with every moment, the world began to spin around her when she reached into her robe and drew her knife and stabbed it with all her might into Rafe's chest. He released his grip on her throat and snarled in pain as she plunged the blade in, but she had missed his heart, and all she could do was lean into the handle as Rafe began punching her repeatedly in the stomach, but she would not release the dagger. In her desperation, she called upon the Goddess.

"Tiamet...please. Give me strength! Tiamet, I beg of you!" she shouted as the white light spread through her body, and she felt the power of the Dragon Mother flow through as it never had before. She charged the blade inside of Rafe's chest, and she watched as horror seized his face as the knife pulsated close to his heart and a strange sensation, as if his entire body was burning from the inside, made him convulse in agony. His heart beat frantically as it was being shocked from the inside and smoke rose from his body as he shouted and tried to push Halea away. Despite his thrashing and shouts of pain, she managed to keep her grip on the blade and continued to pour her power into the weapon as she leaned into it with all her might.

It wasn't just her life she was fighting for; she was fighting to save Varg. His life was bound to her; she could not let him die.

"Tiamet...give...me...strength," she shouted again and even more light shot through her. Rafe let out one final scream as his heart seized under the force of the purification, and suddenly he dropped to the ground, her knife still in his smoldering chest.

Halea fell to her knees and struggled to crawl towards the river's edge, but she collapsed, and with the last of her strength she rolled onto her back and looked into the branches of the trees above, their leaves golden and red in the waning daylight.

She could taste blood in her mouth, and one of her eyes was beginning to swell shut. There was nothing but pain as warm blood pooled all around her where she lay on the forest floor. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, she could feel Varg; his soul was crying out for her. She could sense panic and fear, worse than any she had ever known from him before.

"Help me, Varg. I need you," she whispered in a strained voice before closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: -runs from angry readers with pitchforks and torches- Okay. Okay. I know it looks bad...and that's cause it was bad. But Halea is a tough cookie, so don't give up hope.
> 
> What happens next? Will they find her? Is she going to be okay? What's Varg going to do? HOLY SHIT! Rafe got wrecked! He had it coming. Who's going to be the southern alpha now? Is Faolan ever going to get over those worms? Well, to find out you'll have to just keep reading. MWAHAHAHA
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has made it this far. You guys are great. Can you do me just one teensy tiny little favor? -jingles beggers cup- Comments? Feedback? Please! I get so sad when no one ever tells me what they think of the story. I need encouragement. I need love. Don't give me the sads. :*(


	12. Hell to Pay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: More violence ahead, because as people have told me; I'm a sadist. MWAHAHAHAHA

Panic and fear seized his heart to a degree that he had never thought imaginable and he ran non-stop since the moment he sensed that his mate was in danger. He felt her terror, and he knew that she was in unbelievable pain. Had the dragon attacked the den? Something terrible must have happened to the pack; he had entrusted them with her safety. He tried to reach her across their bond, but she would not respond to him. He could sense that she was still alive, but barely, he could feel her spirit hovering close to the edge of the next world, like a light that was slowly fading. As faint as the strength of her soul was, he could still feel her; she was not lost yet, but he had to hurry. In his wolf form, he sped through the trees faster than he had ever run in his life, stopping for nothing, desperate to reach her.

" _I'm coming, Halea. Hang on! Please, hang on_ ," he prayed as he ran through the night.

He returned to his human form when he finally reached the den. The sun had not yet risen. Everything appeared normal. He had been sure he would return to find all of his people slain and the den reduced to smoldering ashes, but it was eerily silent.

Then, howls rang out as his warriors picked up his scent on the wind, and Lyall was the first to greet him.

"Varg, thank the gods you've returned. The Wolfmother..."

"Where is my mate?" he growled as he shoved past Lyall and entered the den. Many lycans were standing around the fire pits. They had been waiting for his return.

"She's here, but..."

Varg didn't care to hear any more. The moment he had entered the main area of the den he could smell it...his mate's blood. It was everywhere all around him. He could even see small droplets of red as he raced up the mountain path that led to their cave.

Batsuba cringed when she heard the heavy wooden doors to the cave fly open with such force they smashed and splintered upon the rock walls.

"Halea?" he cried, as he rushed to his mate, ignoring Batsuba as if he didn't see her. The moment he saw Halea, his eyes opened wide in shock and his heart nearly seized in his chest causing him to gasp involuntarily. Bandages covered her all over, and the scent of her blood was overpowering. Her left arm was in a sling, and the beat of her heart was irregular. Her beautiful face was black and blue, her lip busted, and dried blood stained her face and hair. She did not stir or open her eyes at the sound of his voice.

"Halea?" he asked again as he gently reached for her hand, but he pulled back in fear of disturbing her wounds. He had never seen her so frail before. "I'm back, Halea. I've come home. I'm here. Please...open your eyes. I need you to return to me," he begged as his eyes glistened with tears. "Don't leave me."

He had been a fool to leave her; this was all his fault. She had begged him to take her. He should have never denied his instincts.

"She is still strong, Varg. I'm sure she'll make it. Even now, she is healing," offered Batsuba, her eyes growing moist as her heart ached for the suffering of her children. Halea was not a lycan, but she was a part of the pack now, and Batsuba had grown to care for her as one of her own. She had always loved Varg as a son, and she had never seen him in such pain before.

Batsuba watched as Varg began to clench his fists. She carefully got up from where she sat at Halea's side and slowly stepped back as intense anger began to quickly overshadow Varg's grief. He trembled with rage, his nostrils flaring, every vein in his face and neck straining beneath the surface of his skin as he leaned over his fallen mate and gently reached out to touch her face. He could smell it now, not just her blood, but the blood of another. It was a scent that he remembered all too well, and he knew who was to blame.

"Where is Rafe?" he asked in a deep tone as his wolf began to emerge, the red seeping into the edges of his eyes.

"Dead," she replied. She had to speak carefully before his rage could consume him. "When we found her, her knife was still in his chest. He came to the den looking for you. When you weren't here, he left. Or so we thought, but he came back...to destroy her...to destroy you."

"How did this happen? Why wasn't anyone with her?" he growled. He had given explicit orders that she was to be guarded at all times. Someone was going to pay for what happened to her.

"She had not strayed far from the den. She had only gone as far as the vantage point. When we noticed she had been missing for too long, Faolan went looking for her. Her scent led him to the peak, and then it just disappeared. Her herb collecting basket was all that he found. A search party was quickly assembled, and we spent the rest of the day looking for her. Just after sunset, Aatu discovered her far down-river by the water's edge, along with Rafe's dead body. Her dagger was in his chest. Except for the pungent stench of his blood, it was obvious that he had masked his scent with the intent to avoid being discovered. She had lost a considerable amount of blood, but her heart was still beating. Aatu carried her back to the den, and I have been with her ever since," she explained.

Everyone had been mortified to discover what had happened to their Wolfmother. They all knew Varg would be on his way the moment he felt her distress through their bond, and that he would undoubtedly arrive sometime late in the night. That was when Batsuba had taken it upon herself to warn Faolan; "Lay low until Halea awakes; only she can save you from Varg's wrath."

There would be no avoiding the fact that Varg would eventually punish the young beta for having disobeyed his orders by leaving Halea unguarded. There was no preventing that. But the least she could do was try to prevent Varg from killing Faolan, which in his current state of rage; he was more than willing to do.

"I don't think anyone could have predicted that Rafe would try to assassinate you through Halea. That was a bold move, even for him. He must have believed he could conceal his involvement in her death, or he wouldn't have tried it, but he made one fatal mistake, he underestimated her," mused the old healer.

Varg knew all too well that Batsuba was avoiding the true question, even if it was only to the vantage point, someone should have been with her, but for the time being, it could wait. Rafe was dead, and his mate was hanging onto her life by a thread, at that moment, she was all that mattered. He could deal with whoever disobeyed his orders later.

Batsuba felt a wave of relief as she watched the red slowly begin to ebb from his eyes before he turned back to his mate.

* * *

_His elliptical eyes were staring down at her, his sword covered in blood. All around them lay the bodies of her friends; Samesa, Kalee, Mama Dragon, countless priestesses with lifeless eyes, the swirling purple vortex of a convergence consuming the entire night's sky above, the shriek of demons on the wind._

_Then all went silent, and a warm light filled her vision until there was nothing but white, and then a pair of eyes that she did not recognize. Tears glistened from golden orbs of such profound sadness that her heart ached unbearably just to behold them._

" _Save him_."

Halea's eyes flew open, and she winced in pain. Her entire body hurt, even breathing felt painful. Her eyes roamed around the room, but there was no one else there. The mysterious voice still echoed in her mind; a woman's voice, angelic, pure, pleading.

Her heart still ached as slowly the memory of the golden eyes began to fade, and suddenly she remembered what happened.

"Halea!" cried Varg, who rushed into the cave.

"Varg? You're here," she said, her voice raspy and weak. Speaking made the pain in her chest nearly unbearable and her throat was dry.

He knelt by her side, and she could sense such an intense amount of guilt, regret, and sadness from him that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"It's okay...I kicked his ass," she offered with a cheeky smile, which she quickly regretted as her parched lips cracked.

She had been unconscious for almost two days, and in that time most of her face had healed, and only a small amount of discoloration remained around her left eye. A couple of her teeth felt loose, she had several broken ribs, and her arm was still in a sling, but many of the bandages had been removed or replaced with smaller ones. When Varg performed the blood magic to bind his life-force to hers, he had shared the gift of his birthright as a child of the old gods, his immortally and the ability to heal rapidly. Sharing his life-force with her would keep her alive so long as he lived, but should he ever die, she would lose those gifts and be nothing more than a mortal again. Halea couldn't help but feel grateful to Varg for what he had given her, without the aid of his life-force she would not have survived her encounter with the southern alpha.

Varg smiled sadly at her attempt to cheer him up, and he couldn't help leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on her lips and softly cupping her jaw with his hand.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you. I should have been here to protect you. I swore I would, and I failed you."

"It's not your fault. He wanted to kill you. I wasn't fighting him for myself. I just couldn't let him hurt you. I know you think it's your responsibility to protect me, but it's also my responsibility to protect you."

Varg wanted to argue. As an alpha, his instinct demanded he protect his mate and his people, and the only one responsible for his life was himself, but he could see the determination burning in her eyes, and he could feel the fire in her soul. He couldn't help but be proud that his mate was strong enough to stand against anyone who tried to harm her, or him. Halea had always been powerful. Even when they had grown up together, she had always been the only one who could ever rival him as a warrior, and he had always loved and respected her strength. She had always been his equal; it was why no other could have ever been as worthy to be his mate as her. She was a true alpha bitch. Even now in her weakened state, her spirit and determination burned like a sun across the bond they shared. He couldn't help but genuinely smile and shake his head. She was stubborn, dangerously so, but he knew it was the stubborn who survived.

"Rest. I'll tell Batsuba that you're awake," he said as he gently squeezed her hand and rose to summon the healer.

"Wait," she called as she snatched his hand once more, causing a jolt of pain to shoot up her arm. She hadn't realized that she had stitches even on her unbroken arm.

"Halea, don't move," he reprimanded the moment he saw her discomfort, but he took a seat by her side once more.

"Where's Faolan?" she asked. She could tell that some time had passed since she had last been awake and she remembered all too well, having sent the beta male away the day she was attacked.

Varg gave her a sharp look that filled her with panic. "He's missing. No one has seen him since I've returned, but they're looking for him, and when he is found - he will answer to me."

"Please don't be angry with Faolan, it wasn't his fault. I ordered him to leave me there. He really didn't want to. This was my mistake, not his. I just wanted some time to myself to think, and I figured it was safe because I wasn't so far from the den."

"Halea, what were you thinking by sending him away? You could have been killed. I could have lost you!"

Halea took Varg's scolding with patience and humility. He was right. She should have never left the safety of the den, and she especially should have never gone out alone. There were times when she simply forgot that it was not just her life that would be in danger; any threat to her was also a threat to Varg. She could not go around taking risks when her death would be the end of them both. She had been careless, and she realized she probably deserved what she got, but not Faolan.

Varg watched helplessly as her eyes began to glisten and her bottom lip trembled in a way that instantly made him regret speaking to her in such a harsh tone.

"I messed up. I'm so sorry. Be angry with me if you want. I was the one who defied you by ordering him to leave."

"Your orders are to be obeyed, but my orders come first, and Faolan knew this." Ordered or no, in lycan society the chain of command was clear. The word of the alpha was law, especially the word of the Wolf King, even above his mate.

"Varg, please..." she started to beg, but suddenly Varg's eyes flashed red, and that was when she heard the howls.

He jumped up, his face twisting in anger, his claws suddenly growing, as he made for the door.

"Varg, don't!" she cried, but it was too late, and he was gone.

With all the strength she could muster from her aching body, she forced herself to sit up. Her head was swimming. She had never felt her body so weak, but she had to get up.

"Halea?" called Batsuba, who rushed into the cave, panic written across her face. She gasped when she saw the young woman struggling to get up.

"It's Faolan!" Batsbua declared as she rushed to Halea's side and helped pull her from the bed. "You must stop Varg!"

"Help me," Halea begged.

* * *

Faolan stood resolute as Hemming and Lyall held him on either side. He had masked his scent and hidden away from the den, hoping to give Varg time to calm down, or for Halea to recover, but now his time was up. Despite his best efforts, Hemming and Lyall, who were older more experienced hunters, had managed to track him down. He didn't put up a fight when they seized him; the look of pity and regret in their eyes as they escorted him back to the den was undeniable. It had been a silent march. They were acting on orders, and he knew Varg would show no mercy.

It was true; against his better judgment he had disregarded the orders of his alpha, and he knew he deserved to be punished. It was Varg's duty to assert his authority over his people. It was the lycan way. When it came to risking the life of his alpha's mate, he knew that not even their many years of friendship could save him should Varg enter into a full blood rage.

He prayed to the wolf gods that his sister would not suffer for his mistake. To put her under such stress and anguish in the final days of her pregnancy filled him with guilt.

" _She must be worried sick_ ," he thought, and suddenly he was grateful that she was confined to the cave. He couldn't help his mind wandering to the thought of his unborn niece or nephew. Would they never know their uncle?

Lycurgus joined the crowd and he could see the fear in his brother-in-law's eyes, to which Faolan only nodded his head in acknowledgment.

A silence fell over every lycan as Varg stormed into the common area. Many stepped back or fled in fear. His eyes were burning red, his fangs visible as he snarled. Lyall and Hemming released Faolan and quickly got out of the way as Varg approached.

"Varg, please, show mercy!" cried Aatu who threw himself into Varg's path, but in his rage, there was no difference between friend or foe, and he lashed out with such force that Aatu was sent flying, his chest torn open and spilling blood.

Faolan braced himself as Varg was quickly upon him and without resisting; he withstood the many violent punches and kicks that eventually knocked him to the ground.

"You disobeyed me," Varg snarled in a voice that was almost unrecognizable as he continued to punch Faolan in the face over and over again as blood and teeth sprayed the common area around them.

Faolan was willing to accept punishment for his transgression, but his instincts began to kick in, and suddenly the need for survival overcame him, and he lashed out and struck Varg with all his might, throwing him back. Faolan quickly jumped to his feet, his vision blurry as blood trickled into his eyes from his open wounds, but before he could fully recover his bearings, Varg had seized him by the throat.

When Batsuba finally managed to drag Halea down into the common area, they were horrified at the carnage before them.

"Halea, stop him please," begged Aatu who stumbled towards her, his hand covered with blood as he held it over the gaping wound on his chest.

Halea let go of Batsuba, her entire body was aching, and dizziness threatened to overcome her as she moved as quickly as she could.

Varg was refusing to give the killing blow. Not yet. Someone had to pay for what happened to his mate. Someone had to suffer for what she endured, and so even with his hand still firmly gripped around Faolan's neck, he continued to mercilessly knee the beta male in the stomach over and over again. If not for being held aloft, Faolan would have doubled over. Varg extended his claws one last time, and Faolan knew this strike would be the last, and he clenched his eyes shut.

"Varg, stop!" shouted Halea, who had jumped in and seized his wrist as he was just about to land the killing strike.

She wouldn't have had the strength to stop him in her weakened state as she held his wrist with the hand on her uninjured arm; it was her voice that snapped him to a halt.

"Let him go," she said in a commanding tone, to which Varg growled loudly. He was in the full grip of his primal instincts. The wolf within him wanted Faolan's blood.

Halea could feel the tendons in his wrist were as taut as a drawn bowstring. His face was almost unrecognizable as he bared his fangs and his eyes burned. She could tell challenging him while his instincts were in control would only anger the alpha wolf within him.

"Varg...please. Please, let him go. I need you here with me," she begged.

Her heart was pounding, and the dizziness was making it hard for her to stand, but she couldn't let go of him, she couldn't turn away, or Faolan would die, and it would be all her fault.

As if he could sense her weakening he suddenly released Faolan from his grip causing the beta male to collapse while gasping for air.

She released his wrist, and he turned to face her.

"Halea," he said as the sound of her name mixed with the rumbling growl within his chest.

Halea leaned into him, offering herself in a desperate attempt to comfort his wolf, while also needing the stability of his body as she struggled to stay standing. Varg quickly wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose in her neck, but a cry of pain escaped her as his strong embrace sent a shock of pain into one of her broken ribs. He pulled back in time to see the discomfort on her face, and his instincts rapidly shifted to acknowledge that his mate was in pain. He scooped her up into his arms, being careful of her injuries, and carried her away from the common area.

Batsuba quickly turned to Faolan and sprung into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Damn, Varg. Ya big bully! He was your bro, man. That was your bro! Keep in mind though, he's not thinking clearly when the ol instincts are running the show. I'm sure next chapter we'll see the aftermath.
> 
> Just so you know, I originally wrote this chapter where, sure Varg beat Faolan's ass, but it wasn't as bad as this. I had him go easy on him, but then I got a message from one of my lovely readers on FPnet, and I realized, I'm not the sadist. You guys are! Cause clearly you wanted to see Varg beat his ass. So I literally re-wrote this chapter to have Varg flip his shit and go complete mad-dog on poor Faolan, and ya know what, it works. I like it better this way. And don't pretend you don't like it too! This is why I love hearing from you guys. Your comments and feedback really do make a difference and without it I wouldn't have improved this chapter and it really wouldn't have been as good/dramatic. So thank you to everyone who gives me their honest thoughts on the story. I am listening!
> 
> Also, because I am listening, I know some have expressed concerns that if Varg came back it would defeat the purpose of him leaving at all. I promise you guys this is not all pointless. Varg is far from perfect. He needs to learn that he can't fight all of Halea's battles and that she's a big girl who can take care of herself and that they need to fight their battles together, especially if they're going to go up against Lord Anshar and the Chaos Dimension, and this is one of many steps toward his continued character development along that path. These events will have significant impact on later chapters in the story as well as tie in with a certain event that happened way back in book one, which will be brought up again. I promise it will all come together and hopefully be a learning experience for our favorite puppy boy.
> 
> After all these brutal violent chapters the next two chapters will be calm in comparison, but fair warning, after that, shit's gonna get real again.


	13. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Sorry it's going up a little late today.

Once they returned to the cave, Varg gently laid Halea in bed, but she refused to let go of him. His eyes were still red, and she could sense anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Please stay with me," she pleaded, and to her relief, he laid down beside her. He was breathing heavily, and an occasional low growl would rumble through his chest, but his inner wolf seemed to be willing to make her its priority. After several more tense moments, the red slowly began to fade from his eyes, and Halea let out a sigh of relief.

Varg's face suddenly took on a look of pain and disappointment as regret and sadness permeated their bond.

"I killed him, didn't I?" he asked. When his instincts took over, it was hard to remember everything that happened, but he could smell Faolan's blood on his hands, as well as fresh blood from Halea.

"No. Well, I don't think so anyway. Batsuba is with him now. Let's just say he doesn't look so good."

He closed his eyes and felt a tinge of relief, but it did nothing to lessen his guilt. It was necessary for him to punish Faolan, but even he didn't really want to kill him. Controlling the beast within was nearly impossible at times and since returning to find Halea so badly injured the wolf within him had howled for nothing but blood and vengeance. It was quiet now. At last, he could think clearly again, and the reality of what he had almost done to one of his closest childhood friends came crashing down on him.

It was true that Faolan had disobeyed, but protecting Halea should have never been anyone's responsibility but his. Faolan was not the only one who left her alone, and it was worse because he was her mate.

Halea could tell that he was finally returning to his senses and the amount of shame she felt from him nearly broke her heart. She understood how powerful his instincts could be, that he had no control when the blood rage took him. She had seen it before, and she knew that the wolf that had nearly taken Faolan's life was the untamed beast that dwelled within him. His brutal lycan nature still shocked and frightened her at times because she knew how easily his animal nature could consume him.

When Varg opened his eyes again, Halea was gazing at him with a mixture of love and concern. "Thank you for stopping me. If you hadn't...I would have regretted this day for the rest of my life," he said as he gently wrapped his arms around her, being careful of her injuries.

His confession strengthened the resolve in her heart. He needed her, and she would find a way to make him see that he could no longer carry every burden alone.

* * *

The next day Batsuba returned to their cave. Faolan would live, and Aatu was recovering from his own injury with him in the old healer's tree-dwelling. Varg had been uncommonly silent since the day before. As soon as Halea's injuries were seen to, he would go down and speak with his friends.

Halea's short trek down to the common area had disturbed several of her wounds, and a few stitches had popped, but there was no helping it. Batsuba quickly changed Halea's bandages, applied poultices, and prepared herbs to lessen her pain. Halea had to suppress the urge to cry when she was finally able to assess how severe her injuries really were.

"It's only a small fracture," explained Batsuba as she checked Halea's left arm. At the time, she was so fueled by adrenaline; she barely noticed when her arm had been broken. Her blue robe was torn to shreds beyond repair, but she was grateful that she had not lost the crystal she always wore around her neck, the one she had once given to Varg when she was still a girl. Her worst shock was discovering how many gashes were all over her body.

"You will have a few scars, but most of these will fade in time," offered Batsuba as she tried to comfort her depressed patient.

Varg had not left the room. He had held Halea's hand on her uninjured arm the entire time Batsuba had tended to his mate. He knew his presence bothered the old healer when she was working with a patient, but nothing would remove him from his mate's side. He had sensed the sadness engulfing her the moment she beheld her bruised and bloodied body. It was a hard sight even for him, a sight that filled him with guilt and shame that he had allowed such a thing to happen to her, and knowing how much pain she must have endured, and was still enduring, wracked him with sorrow. But when he sensed embarrassment, shame, and self-deprecation, he immediately guessed what was concerning his mate.

"Halea, don't," he chided. "You are beautiful; a few scars will never change that. Scars are nothing to be ashamed of; they're the mark of a true warrior, a survivor. If anyone deserves to be ashamed, it's me for not being here to protect you."

She took a deep breath to calm herself but regretted the immediate pain in her chest.

"Was I diminished in your eyes for my scars?" he asked.

"No," she replied, and it was true. Varg was beautiful no matter what. A few marks on the skin didn't matter, and suddenly she realized the depth of his words. There was no mark that she could ever possess that would ever lessen his love for her, just as nothing could ever lessen her love for him.

Batsuba left them alone as they shared a tender kiss. Halea would be mostly recovered in only a few more days, her arm and shattered ribs in about a week, and soon she would see that she would be her old self again.

* * *

News of Rafe's death had been sent to the southern pack, which would now have to select a new alpha. Rafe's body would be carried back to the southern territory to be buried in their sacred burial grounds. Varg was definitely not sorry to see Rafe gone. Halea had told him of the southern wolves' request for aid, and he had sent several dozen warriors that he felt his pack could spare to aid them until word could be sent to the priestesses.

Upon his return, several of his warriors announced that demons were discovered within the borders of their lands again, and this news left Varg deeply concerned. Thankfully, they were quickly slain before opening any tears. He decided to keep such dire news quiet. If Halea knew, she would worry, and she was in no condition to be battling against Chaos.

Faolan and Aatu were fully recovered from their wounds in just a few days, though it would take a while longer for Faolan to re-grow the teeth he had lost in the fight.

Varg had gone to visit them both. He could not apologize for disciplining Faolan, as an alpha, he was expected to assert his authority violently, and Faolan had disobeyed, but he did apologize for allowing his wolf to possess him and for nearly killing him and Aatu in his blood rage.

"The beast rules us all at one time or another," said Aatu as he accepted Varg's apology. He would forever carry the scar on his chest from where Varg had nearly killed him, but he didn't mind. It was just another day as a wolf as far as he was concerned, and he would have gladly done it all over again if it meant keeping his two best friends from a fight to the death. "It was a good thing Halea was there," he added.

"This is the second time she's has saved my life," said Faolan with a relieved smile. "I'm glad she's one of us now. And I'm sorry, Varg. I shouldn't have left her. I did mess up." Though this was certainly the worst physical chastisement he had ever received from Varg, he didn't hold it against him. Even though Faolan was single, he could imagine how distraught he would be if something terrible ever happened to any mate of his own. He knew in such a circumstance, his wolf would be inconsolable, and he probably would have reacted the same way. "I'm sorry for what Rafe did to her," he added. "That bastard got what he deserved for messing with our alpha bitch."

Runners were also sent to the northern and eastern packs to send word of Rafe's death. Soon every lycan would know that Halea had slain Rafe in single combat, and Varg wanted them to know. For too long his people had doubted his choice of a mate and scorned her. They may still harbor resentment against her for being human, but after news of her defeating Rafe was known, none would ever dare defy or disrespect their Supreme Wolfmother again.

Varg's pack regarded her with newfound respect as well. In only a few days Halea was doing much better. She was finally up and walking again, but Varg still insisted that she not overexert herself. Almost every lycan visited her at the main fire pit where she sat in repose while she recuperated from the last of her injuries, and even Lyall had somberly paid his well-wishes.

Aatu and Faolan also came to thank her for her intervention with deep bows of gratitude, but Halea refused to hear any further apologies from Faolan about the incident. It was she, who ordered him to leave her, and she didn't want him feeling guilty for obeying her wishes, he had already been punished enough by Varg for disregarding the chain of command.

"It's I who should apologize; I put you in a bad position. I promise I won't ever do that to you or anyone again. It was stupid of me, and I wasn't thinking. Varg would have never been angry with you if not for me. I'm so sorry," she offered.

"At least you saved me...again. I won't forget this, Halea. You have my word, if there's anything you ever need, please call upon me. And if I ever catch anyone being disrespectful of you behind your back, or Varg's, again, I'll personally rearrange their jaw."

"Same for me," added Aatu.

"Thanks, guys," she replied with a smile as she tried not to choke up from their kindness.

The constant stream of well-wishers warmed her heart as she sat by the fire in the alpha's pit. She was surprised and honored by the genuine outpouring of concern, and she regretted that she worried so many of them.

"I'm so glad you're out of the cave, Halea. I've missed you," cried Daciana.

"You made her cry," said Hemming, who quickly received an elbow to the ribs from his mate for his outburst.

"You didn't have to worry," consoled Halea.

"I did worry. I was so frightened for you when Aatu carried you back to the den," she confessed. "I'm so glad you're better now. I'm going to miss you when you go to the east with Varg."

The threat of the Dragon Lord was no less real with the passing of the days, she knew he was out there, somewhere, taking the lives of the friends she loved, and she was powerless to stop it. It had been almost a week since her fateful encounter with Lord Anshar, and so far, they had not seen or heard from him, and she had received no messenger birds from the priestesses, but the danger still existed. Eventually, Lord Anshar would make good on his threats.

Varg had not abandoned his mission. He still believed his best bet for protecting his mate and his pack would be in learning to master the power of the Fang, but this time he would not make the journey alone. Though there would be several long days of travel between pack territories, he had no choice but to take the risk of bringing Halea with him. He hated taking her away from the den, but the den had proven not to be as safe as he had hoped, and he knew he could not leave her behind again. It was clear now that the only one he trusted to protect his mate, was himself. Halea could sense that the risk of the journey still deeply concerned him, but she was relieved when he finally relented that she should go to the east with him this time. They would leave in a few more days when the last of her wounds were completely healed, though her ribs were still broken, and her arm would still be in a sling for at least one more week. Her broken bones had given Varg some reluctance, but she had quickly argued that time was of the essence and that her ribs were feeling much better. It no longer hurt to breathe or talk and she didn't need her arms to walk. He was not about to let his mate run around with broken bones, and he didn't want to risk walking the whole way. The more time they spent between pack territories, the riskier the journey would be. He had a solution that he had yet to propose to her, but he was certain she would agree.

Halea was surprised when she saw Ralphina come to greet her at the fire pit, her newborn son bundled in her arms. Her brother's peril had worried her during the last days of her pregnancy, but she had maintained hope that Halea would not allow Varg to take her brother's life. Though Faolan had not entirely escaped Varg's wrath, she was grateful to both of her alphas for their mercy.

Halea had missed the birth due to her convalescence, and she had been dreadfully disappointed. She had never helped with a birth before, and she had been looking forward to being there, but Batsuba had assured her that there would always be more cubs to bring into the world.

"You look wonderful, Ralphina. How was it?"

"It hurt so bad I thought I was going to die. Lycurgus was more frightened than I was," she said with a laugh. Lycan males could not be separated from their mates during labor, the need to protect was too great, and though their presence was a nuisance to Batsuba, they did help comfort the mother-to-be.

Though Halea shared Varg's life-force, which allowed her to heal rapidly, a true therian could heal even faster. Ralphina had only delivered her baby the day before, and she was already up and about as if, despite her description of the events, giving birth was the easiest experience in the world. Halea couldn't help but marvel at how lucky therians had it. She didn't know much about human childbirth, but she knew that a regular human woman would be bedridden for days, maybe weeks, after going through labor.

Ralphina kneeled before Halea in a way that made her instantly uncomfortable as she bowed her head and raised her infant as though she were making an offering. It had been a very long time since Varg's pack had a Wolfmother and Halea realized this was probably some ritual significant to her position as an alpha. She glanced around nervously, not knowing what was expected of her, but Batsuba saw her confusion and quickly came to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Normally, in such a situation the Wolfmother is expected to accept the offered child, but as Halea only had one good arm, Batsuba had to help her by gently propping the squirming infant into her right arm for her, being extra careful of Halea's sore ribs. Halea was instantly terrified that she would drop the fragile baby in her feeble state, but Batsuba stayed close to ensure all would be well, and she was grateful for the old healer's presence.

The tiny lycan baby stared up at her with confused dark eyes, and she thought she could see some resemblance to Lycurgus. The child almost looked human except for his pointy little ears. He was so tiny and perfect, and she had never held anything so precious before. She couldn't help but imagine holding just such an infant, one with bright blue eyes, and a familiar ache tore into her heart.

"He's so beautiful," she whispered, as she struggled to keep the emotion out of her voice. "What did you name him?"

Ralphina had looked up after Halea had accepted her son and she beamed with pride and love as she watched her baby in the Wolfmother's arms.

"Faolan suggested, Bardolph."

A sudden memory struck her from her youth growing up with Varg. He would occasionally tell her about the other lycan cubs who were his friends; Aatu, Faolan, and Bardolph. Bardolph was killed in the devastation of the convergence when he was still just a boy. She knew that the memory of Varg's childhood friend being killed always filled him with sadness and regret and it occurred to her that Bardolph's death probably left a lasting impact on Aatu and Faolan as well. This child's name would now carry on the memory of one who was lost, and she couldn't help but wish that this Bardolph would live a long and happy life. At the same time she was overwhelmed with sadness because Chaos had returned, and with Lord Anshar lost to them, there would be nothing to hold back the next convergence.

"I like that. It's a good name. My wish is for him to grow big and strong and live a long life of happiness, peace, and love. I don't really know the ancient wolf gods, but I pray Tiamet will bless him and watch over him."

Batsuba was surprised Halea had instinctively known what to say. Traditionally, the Wolfmother would say a prayer to the wolf gods and offer blessings for the new cub as its first formal welcome into the world. Though Halea did not call upon the wolf gods, her prayer was no less significant.

"Thank you, Wolfmother," said Ralphina as Batsuba helped Halea return the child to his mother's outstretched arms.

Once Ralphina left, Halea looked to Batsuba.

"Was that okay?"

"There is a true Wolfmother's spirit in you, you said exactly the right thing," she assured.

Halea felt a lonely ache as her arm grew cold now that the warmth of the baby was gone. Perhaps she would only ever be a Wolfmother.

She was not left long to brood over her sad thoughts as howls began to ring out in the distance, but there was something strange in their tone.

"Is it danger?"

"Humans," replied Batsuba as her dark eyes stared into the distance beyond the den.

" _Humans?_ " thought Halea, then suddenly her heart leaped with worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Man, being a lycan must suck. Getting your ass kicked on the reg, getting stink eye from Batsuba all the time, food so undercooked it can literally run away. The only thing worse than being a lycan is being a priestess...oh wait.
> 
> Hopefully, this more mild chapter cools you guys off from the hell that was the last two chapters. Next chapter will be a little mild too, but then after that, hold onto your butts. MWAHAHAHAHA
> 
> And yes, Natalie, I was tired when I edited this. I apologize for typos and such.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading along and enjoying book 2. I'm several chapters ahead (writing wise) of what I've published online. I like staying ahead in case I have to go back and make major adjustments, which happens a lot. But the good news is; I'm officially at the half-way point for book 2. It's coming along nicely, and the action, suspense, drams, and, of course, the sexiness, will keep coming. Please vote or leave a comment and let me know what you think of book 2 so far. I love hearing from you guys and I need love to live!
> 
> BONUS! - If you head over to my blog jmriddles dot com (sorry I have to write it like that here, you can also find it by googling jmriddles, link is also on my profile) I've uploaded some bonus material. Under the main menu you'll find a new section on my blog called "Extras" where you can find fun facts about the series, origin of names, fan art, and a playlist for those who are interested.


	14. Priestesses

"Why have you come here?" growled Varg as he and a small group of his warriors intercepted the priestesses. Demons were appearing more frequently within his territory, but no tears had opened yet, and he did not want the presence of the priestesses to draw the unwanted attention of the dragon, and more importantly, he wanted them to stay far away from his mate.

"I thought we had your permission to fulfill our duties on your lands without interference," argued the dark one. Varg remembered her; she was the brave priestess who had dared to challenge him the day of the last convergence. She had been willing to fight him to the death to take Halea away from him, to offer her up as a sacrifice to the Chaos Dimension.

As much as he wanted to send them away, she was right. The lycans had given their word that the priestesses could battle Chaos unharmed and unhindered within their lands. There was also the issue of the southern territory suffering from an open tear that could not be ignored.

"Please, may we speak with Halea," begged the redheaded priestess.

"It would appear demons are running wild again. It's only a matter of time before they open tears in these lands. You've seen them, haven't you?" asked the older looking priestess, her falcon regarded him from her shoulder with its dark reflective eyes. Varg could guess that she was Mama Dragon by Halea's description of her. This priestess had helped Halea carry his lifeless body from the ruined city, and he felt conflicted with a sense of indebtedness, but also anger that Halea should have never been the one chosen to die in the first place. He couldn't shake the distrust he now harbored; that even though Halea was no longer one of them, they might try to take her away from him.

"We've slaughtered every demon we've found so far, but their numbers are growing," he admitted. Halea was somewhat aware that the warriors had been hunting demons, but he had not revealed to her just how bad it was once again becoming. She would only worry, or worse, insist on helping, and he was determined that she focus on rest and recovery. In the past few days since he had returned to the den he had taken hunting parties of his best warriors out to search for the demon invaders, but there was something strange about these demons, they seemed more intelligent somehow.

"What business have you with my mate?" he growled.

The three priestesses exchanged nervous glances, but it was the elder priestess who spoke again. "We need her help. Please, may we see her?"

"Halea is not one of you anymore. You should remember that. Besides...she hasn't been well," he tried to explain without going into detail. He couldn't help but feel shame and anger that Halea's friends should see her in such a state. It was bad enough that he had failed to protect her; the last thing he wanted was for others to see that she had suffered while in his care. Perhaps her people would think she wasn't safe among the lycans, and who knows how they would react. It seemed hypocritical to hate them for having once threatened her life when she hardly appeared to be in any better hands with him.

"Not well?" asked the redhead.

"What happened? Is she okay?" cried the brave one.

"Lord Anshar hasn't attacked, has he?" asked Mama Dragon.

"Enough!" he barked as he regarded their faces which seemed to express genuine concern. Whether he liked them or not, Halea loved these human women. Despite nearly making her a sacrifice to the convergence, she still considered them friends. "I'll take you to her."

* * *

The moment news reached her that a group of priestesses was on their way to the den, Halea's heart instantly sped up. Somewhere Varg was not happy with her reaction, but she couldn't help it.

She wanted to run out to greet them, but she knew everyone in the pack had been ordered to make sure she didn't exert herself, and the last thing she wanted to do was get someone in trouble with Varg because of her actions again. She waited impatiently at the fire pit until at last she was greeted by Samesa, Kalee, and Mama Dragon. Varg had returned as well, and she could see him watching the Tiamet worshippers with apprehension. Most of the lycans scattered from the common area at the unwelcome appearance of so many unfamiliar humans in their den.

Shock and worry were apparent in the priestesses' eyes when they saw her reclining at the main fire pit, bandages still covering much of her body and her arm in a sling. She was at least grateful the bruises on her face had finally faded, they really would have cried if they had only seen her a few days ago.

"Halea, what happened to you?" cried Mama Dragon, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Calm down everyone. I'm okay. I know this looks bad, but..."

"Did Lord Anshar attack you too?" asked Kalee.

Halea didn't miss the implications of that question, and she cringed. She had instantly suspected why her friends were here, and Kalee's outburst confirmed it. Lord Anshar had decided to postpone his vengeance against Varg to focus on hunting those who were blessed by Tiamet. Varg sensed her anxiety and quickly went to her side and gently wrapped one arm around her, partly to comfort her and partly in a display of possessiveness.

"I got into a fight with a lycan, not from this pack. Long story short, he hated me for being a weak human. He's dead, and I'm not, so that's the end of that. I'm fine, and I'll be well and up and about soon. Enough about me; what's happened?"

"Oh, Halea, it's terrible," cried Kalee.

"Lord Anshar is slaughtering every priestess he finds, and any cleric that tries to stand in his way," added Samesa.

"After you left a meeting was called to assemble the elder priestesses and clerics. Against High Priestess Maven's wishes, the priestesses have abandoned Antherose and gone into hiding out in the wilds. But we still have a duty to perform. As far as we can tell Lord Anshar does not seem to be in direct league with the demons, nor does he seem concerned with the tears, but one thing is certain, he is hunting us. We've lost at least a dozen priestesses in the past week, and several clerics were cut down. He seems to ignore the non-blessed devotees that refuse to take arms against him, but he shows no mercy to any priestess he finds. Lord Anshar is a predator in the most animalistic sense. His eyes can see in the dark and over vast distances, his ears can detect the faintest sounds, and his sense of smell can track us no matter how we tried to hide. Halea, I know you swore me to secrecy, but our lives are in your hands. You must tell us how to prepare that potion that removes scent. We have no other way to elude him."

Halea winced when she sensed Varg tense up beside her. He was most definitely angry. When they were children, he had made her swear she would never reveal the scent masking potion to anyone as it could be used against therians, and more specifically, against lycans. Now he knew she had broken her word.

"I'm sorry, Varg. I gave her my scent masking potion to save her life. I didn't mean to break my promise," she pleaded as she turned to him.

He sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation, and she could sense that he was trying to control his anger and disappointment.

Even though that promise had been made long ago when they were only children, the scent masking potion was still one of the lycan's most valuable secrets. If that knowledge fell into the wrong hands, the entire pack could be in danger. He could tell Halea was begging him to consider the priestesses' request. He couldn't stay mad with Halea, not after what she had just been through, and he knew she had only broken her promise to save Mama Dragon, of whom he also owed a debt.

"It's not something to be given away lightly. I shouldn't make this decision alone. This is the sort of thing the council should have a say in because it's a decision that could affect all lycans."

"They don't have that kind of time, and neither do we. We have to leave as soon as I'm ready."

"Leave?" asked Samesa.

Halea nodded. "Lord Anshar is a threat to us as well. We're going to the east, seeking counsel on how to stop him."

"And what will you do if demons open tears while you're gone?" asked Mama Dragon.

Neither Halea nor Varg had an answer.

"We will share the secret of the scent masking potion, but you must agree to several conditions," spoke Varg after a moment of tense contemplation.

"Name them," responded Mama Dragon.

"The first condition is I want all of you, but one, out of my territory by sunset. If too many of you are here, you might draw the attention of the dragon into our lands. I don't care which of you stays, you can settle that yourself, but the one who remains must seal any tears that appear in our absence, as well as help to eliminate any demon threats. You will have my best warriors to help you. My second condition, no matter what happens, no matter what the future may bring, you will never lay claim on Halea's life again. I don't care who or how, but you pick some other priestess to sacrifice. She's not one of you anymore, her life belongs to me," he stated, and they could all hear an inhuman growl rising in his voice as his eyes narrowed.

"And this condition applies to you too," he said as he addressed Halea. "You have to swear, no matter what happens; you will never again offer yourself as a sacrifice."

Halea tried not to cringe when he gave her his alpha's glare of authority. She knew he would be unwavering in this condition. She was Tiamet's last chosen sacrifice. Even if she wasn't a priestess anymore, Lord Anshar had been explicit that no one else could take her place once she had been chosen. The last time a lesser sacrifice had been made the convergence had returned quicker than ever before, but on the other hand, Lord Anshar was no longer there to act as the hand of Tiamet. Only he could wield the Blade That Cuts Through Worlds and conduct the sacrificial ritual that was necessary to banish the great tear of the convergence, and he was fully in the grips of the madness that had consumed him from his time surviving within the Chaos Dimension. Even though she wanted to believe in him, to hope that he could be saved, she had every reason to suspect that he would never again fulfill his duties to the Goddess. He wanted the convergence to happen. He was no longer on their side, and without him, there could never be a sacrifice. On top of all that, her life was now bound to Varg. Her death would be his death as well. She had only just recently fought against Rafe, more to protect Varg's life than her own. When it was just her life on the line, there had been no question, no hesitation, her duty had been to fulfill her purpose for the Goddess, but now it was no longer just her life, it was Varg's life as well.

She nodded her head in agreement and defeat. "Yes, I swear it."

"And my third and final condition, and the most important condition of all, you may reveal how to make the scent masking potion to your fellow priestesses, but only priestesses, no other humans or therians, not even your clerics. Administer it to protect them if you must, but don't reveal what the potion is or what it does. You must swear on your lives that the secret goes no further than those who are blessed by the Dragon Goddess."

All three priestesses bowed their heads and swore in the name of Tiamet as they clasped their fists over their hearts. Varg could not detect the scent of deceit, and when they raised their heads, he was satisfied.

"Should any of you ever break the terms of this agreement, you will need to fear for your lives more so from a wolf than from a dragon. Don't ever forget."

They each nodded in understanding as Varg stared them down with his piercing blue eyes. Though they could not understand or explain it, they could sense the power of his will bearing down on them in a way that caused them to shudder in fear. They didn't doubt that he would make good on his threat.

Varg left them to have a moment alone with Halea; he was less nervous about their presence now that they had given their word to make no further claims on his mate's life.

The three priestesses sat and paid close attention as Halea explained the process for making the scent masking potion. With the weather turning cold, the ingredients would become harder to acquire. They would have to gather as many herbs as they could before the heavy snow came and dry them to make it through the long winter. The north and east were the coldest regions and usually received snow first, but the west would not be far behind. Only the south saw little, if any, snowfall during the year. They agreed that Samesa should travel to the southern lycan territory to seal the tear and Kalee would carry the knowledge of the potion to Antherose. Rufus would be dispatched into the north carrying written instructions for the potion to be delivered to the first priestess he found and the knowledge from there would be shared with all the others.

"You should be safe in the south, some of our warriors were sent there to help them with the demons. The new southern alpha has yet to be decided. Let's just say the last one wasn't so great, but if the situation turns hostile get out as quickly as you can," Halea explained to Samesa who nodded in affirmation.

"If anything happens I can send word to you with Rufus," offered Mama Dragon.

"Would he be able to find us?"

"His eyes are sharp, and he knows the direction. It may take him a while the first time until he learns the way, but he'll get the messages to you."

Halea was impressed and baffled at how such a simple beast would even know where to go, but Rufus never failed a mission, and Mama Dragon knew her falcon best.

"Halea?" Mama Dragon asked, her eyes darting around as she leaned in. "Are you okay? Really? I know it's not safe with us, but if it's not safe here, you can tell me."

Halea closed her eyes and scrunched up her mouth in frustration. She couldn't help but feel angry and defensive at Mama Dragon's insinuation, but she also couldn't entirely blame her. From an outsider's point of view, she probably did look like some battered wife, but it was so hard to explain everything that had really happened. She certainly didn't want them thinking any of this was Varg's fault.

She groaned before explaining. "I know this looks bad. I know. I won't lie; things haven't always been easy here, not because of Varg. Varg is wonderful. But some of the others...well...not everyone's excited about having a human woman as a Wolfmother. That's their female alpha by the way," she added.

She went on to explain, as succinctly as she could, about her altercation with Rafe, and how it was an isolated incident, and now that she had proven herself in single combat against an alpha, it was highly unlikely that any would ever dare challenge her again.

Her friends had regarded her with horror as she explained her fight and recovery, but they also seemed to visibly relax after she finished her explanation.

To her surprise, it was Kalee who spoke first. "You're really lucky, Halea. Lucky to be alive, but also lucky because I think you fit in here better than you realize. Varg is a little...scary, to us, but he sure does love you. You'd have to be blind not to see it," she offered with a sad smile as she clasped Halea's hand on her uninjured arm.

Kalee, though she appeared young and behaved frivolously, was actually the oldest amongst them and while she loved being a priestess, she did not like being an immortal. Her heart ached with a jealous longing to know that, pending dangers aside, Halea had the opportunity to spend an eternity with someone who loved her. Kalee had always wanted to know what love was like, a family, but every person she had ever cared for had grown old and died before her eyes. Only one of her living relations still remembered her and knew who she was and soon the sands of time would snatch her away and she would be all alone in the world. She would often fill the void in her heat with meaningless sexual encounters, the only way she knew to cope with the pain of her loneliness, but the moment anyone tried to get too close to her, she had to push them away. She couldn't bear the thought of caring for someone only to watch them grow old and die and for her to be left behind. The call of the Goddess was too great for her ever to walk away. She had no choice but to carry the dull never-ending ache of loneliness for the rest of her long life.

Samesa, Kalee, and Rufus were soon on their way, leaving Mama Dragon who immediately went to work in heading to the outskirts of the lycan territory to begin her patrol for demons and tears. Once the unfamiliar humans had dispersed, the lycans reemerged from their homes. Halea tried not to laugh as she watched several of them wrinkle their noses in disgust.

"You did what?" shouted Batsuba, after Varg had delivered the news that he had given the lycan's secret for the scent masking potion to the Tiamet worshippers.

He had anticipated her anger, and he tried his best to keep his own temper under control as he watched the old healer loudly voice her grievances.

"Varg, how could you do something so irresponsible without the approval of the council? You've put us all in danger!" she growled.

That was when Varg had enough. He was willing to let the old woman vent, she had some right to be upset, but he had to put his foot down when she criticized his ability to protect his people. She was impugning his honor as an alpha.

He glared and emitted a deep rumbling growl, which instantly silenced her. She had to fight her own alpha instinct not to growl back, but with an immense effort, she managed to maintain her composure.

"Yes, this was a matter for the council. I'm aware of the danger, but time is against us, and the priestesses are one of the few things between the Chaos Dimension and us. The dragon seeks to slaughter them all in order to allow the convergence to take place. At the moment that is a far more pressing danger. They swore to keep the secret between only those who are priestesses, and should anything go wrong; I will personally take responsibility for my decision. This discussion is over," he snarled.

Batsuba's lips formed a thin disapproving line. He was the Wolf King now, and though the council's will was to be respected, his authority was absolute. There was still anger in her dark eyes, but far less than a moment ago. That was the best he could hope for.

* * *

Two days later Halea was waiting for Varg alone on the outskirts of the den. She suspected the demons were putting up more of a fight than he wanted to let on, but even Mama Dragon refused to tell her too much about what was happening on her patrols.

"Stop worrying. I'm here to ensure the lycans will be safe from Chaos while you're gone. The situation is under control. Remember, this is no longer your fight," Mama Dragon had said, and Halea couldn't help but feel hurt to be reminded that she was no longer a priestess. It was so hard for her to simply ignore the call of the Goddess. Denying the Dragon Mother was like trying to give up on air. She wondered if that was how Varg felt when he was forced to go against his instincts. Serving the Goddess was an undeniable impulse for those who were born blessed. She understood now why so few ever refused the call or willingly chose to give up their duty.

She flexed her arm which was still in a sling. It was feeling much better, and she had regained most of the mobility in her wrist. Batsuba had insisted she wait a little longer before fully using her left arm again. Her broken ribs were nearly mended. She only felt a minor sharp discomfort if she took deep breaths or rolled over onto her side in her sleep. The last of her cuts and gashes had fully healed, and all the stitches removed. She still couldn't help cringing when she took off her robe to bathe. Most of the smaller cuts had left no permanent scars, but she could see prominent claw marks that raked across her abdomen just below her ribcage. She couldn't easily see them, but she knew there was also a series of slash marks that crossed diagonally along her back. There were a few smaller scars on her arms, but Batsuba seemed to think that with the way they continued to fade, in time, they might be unnoticeable. She could only hope.

Varg would love her no matter what, but she also knew those scars reminded him that he had once failed her. While she hadn't liked being left behind, he had done it in the hopes that she would be safe. Now, he was constantly filled with guilt and regret, and she hated to know that he was beating himself up for it. One thing was clear, no matter what dangers lay ahead; they needed to face them together. She knew it was Varg's alpha nature to want to carry such burdens alone, but she would have to convince him that working together, as a team, was perhaps the only chance they had for overcoming the dangers that lay ahead of them.

"Packed and ready?" asked Varg, causing her to rapidly blink as she awakened from her contemplations.

"Uh, yes. Is everything okay?"

"Lyall and Batsuba will have everything under control. The falcon will be sent if any important messages need to reach us."

"Not such a bad bird after all," she said with a teasing smile.

"He's still the bad news bird," he grumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh a little at his irritation.

He was relieved to see her smile and laugh again, she had been very somber since the fight with Rafe, and it had caused him to hate himself all the more for having left her behind. He would never ignore his instincts again; her place was with him.

He was still worried about the dangers of taking her on such a journey, but the recent visit from the priestesses had given him some comfort in knowing the dragon had shifted his focus elsewhere. They would take every precaution along the way, but all of his senses would be on high alert until they reached the safety of the eastern pack.

Halea bent to pick up her light travel bag, similar to the one she had lost, but Varg was too quick for her and snatched it away before she could grab it.

"I can carry it," she complained.

"Absolutely not."

She hadn't packed much; just a few necessities and some medical supplies, as well as the small bundle Ulrica had given her to carry to the east as a pilgrimage in her place. She frowned as he slung the bag over his shoulder and turned his back to her.

"Come on," he said as he knelt down.

Halea had been shocked when Varg had suggested he carry her into the east. She had argued against it, but the truth was she really couldn't run with her broken ribs. The deep inhalations would hurt too much. It was either be carried, or wait until she fully healed, and they didn't have much time. They had already lost another week due to the recent setback, and winter was fast approaching. Varg wanted to reach the eastern pack before the snowfall came, and especially before Lord Anshar finally came looking for them.

Halea carefully climbed onto his back, using only her good arm to hang on. Varg easily lifted her and firmly held her in place by hooking his arms under her knees.

"I'm not hurting your chest, am I?" he asked.

They had done a short practice run the day before; just to be sure this would be a feasible option for travel. As long as he didn't make any major leaps that could jostle her around, she felt no discomfort by leaning on his back.

"I'm fine," she said as she took one final moment to tighten her winter cloak. She was wearing her green robe and was once again carrying the knife Varg had given her. It had been retrieved from Rafe's body, and she had made sure to tuck it into her robe as it would be her only weapon. Neither she, nor Varg, could carry her spear, so it had to be left behind.

"Ready," she said at last, and Varg quickly sped off into the trees.

He couldn't help but smile when he detected a sense of delight from her as they ran through the forest and up into the mountains.

She had tied her hair back in a knot so the wind wouldn't whip it around so much and she marveled as the scenery flew past them. Varg was incredibly strong, he never tired, and he never lost his grip. She was arguably just as fast, but it felt very different to go at such a speed while someone else carried her, and she imagined this was the closest she'd ever get to knowing what it felt like to fly.

She could tell Varg was pleased with himself and she couldn't help placing an appreciative kiss on one of his long pointy ears.

"Careful. If you tease me, we might have to make a delay on the way to the east," he laughed. She hugged him a little tighter with her good arm but did her best to behave herself for the rest of the day.

* * *

A roll of thunder announced the appearance of a swirling purple tear from which long spindly legs slowly emerged. Its multifaceted eyes took in the forest surroundings as the wind danced across the barb-like hairs along its bulbous black body. There was a taste in the air, and it knew where to go. The dimensional rift snapped shut behind the demon as it set out in search of its target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: What's this; a cliffhanger? Why yes, I am that mean. And that thing sounds creepy AF. Will revealing the secret of the scent masking potion backfire on them? You know who we haven't seen in a while? Lord Anshar. Hmmm I wonder what he's up to? Well, we'll see him next chapter. I'm sure that news pleases many of you. Seriously, there's an inordinate amount of Anshar fangirls out there. You guys do realize he's the bad guy now right? Will Varg and Halea make it to the east safely? Well, you'll just have to keep reading to find out. Hope you enjoyed these calmer chapters because next chapter is going to be brutal again...cause I'm a sadist. Tune in this time in two weeks. Same bat-time. Same bat-channel.
> 
> Also, thank you so so much to everyone who is reading and enjoying the story. I'm over 50% complete with the writing of book 2 and it's coming along nicely. Please help keep me motivated by leaving me comments or feedback. Every time I hear from you guys it really helps feed my motivation and keep me inspired. You guys are awesome and I need your love to live. PLEASE!


	15. Spreading the Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: I'm sure some of you have been wondering about a lot of the characters that were introduced in book 1 and what's become of them. Well, this chapter might give you some insight into some of the many other characters of the convergence. And yes...everyone's favorite evil dragon is in this chapter too. MWAHAHAHAHA

"Its eyes. I've never seen that before," declared Lorin after she could no longer stand the uncomfortable silence that had settled over her small group. She and Nancy were moving slower than they'd like, trying not to abandon their cleric companions, but she wanted to run. She wanted far away from that gloomy place. They had just closed a tear and were making their way back into the northern forests.

"They're different now. Everything is different now," replied Kert as he tightened his grip on his staff. The runes of purification on the polished wood of his weapon offered him little comfort after what they had just seen.

"As soon as we get out of these wetlands, we'll set up a barrier for the night. I don't want to take any chances," added Nancy as she took a quick glance at the slowly setting sun. She wanted to be safely within the forest before more strange demons appeared, or worse.

Francine and Able quickened their steps at the hope of finally resting after their hard day. As mere clerics, they didn't have the endurance that Nancy and Lorin possessed, and the constant fear that followed them like a shadow was wearing on their nerves. Every sound made them jump as they plodded along, but it was the sudden silence that chilled them the most.

Nancy stopped in her tracks and held up one hand. Everyone halted and readied their weapons. They were not far from the trees.

Something rushed them from the shadows, with movement too quick to see and Nancy let out a blood-curdling shriek as she was snatched away from the group.

"Nancy!" shouted Lorin as she took off running.

"Wait!" cried Able, as the clerics desperately tried to run after the priestess who was following something into the edge of the forest.

"Lorin, wait of us," begged Francine, but it was no use, as suddenly the three clerics were left alone.

They continued to run until they reached the trees. The moment they entered the forest they stopped and Francine let out a startled gasp as she cupped her hands over her face and Able leaned over a fallen log and retched at the sight before them.

Blood was splattered everywhere and propped against the base of a tree they found Nancy's body, her throat torn out, her lifeless eyes open and frozen in terror.

"Lorin!" everyone began to shout.

"Lorin, please, where are you?" cried Francine as her heart raced, and the sound of her pounding pulse nearly drowned out her own voice.

There was a loud snap from the branches above, and they all looked up in time to watch as the lifeless body of the missing priestess was tossed to the forest floor in a heap, her neck twisted in an unnatural angle. A shadow leaped down from the trees, and they cried out in dismay as Lord Anshar loomed before them, the pupils of his gleaming silver eyes had a snake-like quality to them in the fading light. In his hands, he clutched The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds, the bright steel a stark contrast to his sinister black armor.

"Leave," he commanded in a voice that was cold and detached.

Francine's face shifted from horror to anger as she drew her sword. "You monster!" she shouted as she charged the former head of her faith, but when she swung her blade it was met with nothing but air, and she let out a sharp gurgled inhalation as she felt a red hot pain tear through her. With a sickening sound like meat being carved Lord Anshar withdrew his blade from her chest and the young cleric crumbled to the forest floor.

Kurt leaped forward next but was met with a similar fate as Lord Anshar mercilessly ran him through.

Able held his bow at the ready, his nocked arrow pointing straight at Lord Anshar's heart. His weapon rattled in his shaking hands, but even when tears clouded his vision, he refused to look away from his target.

"Walk away. You don't have to die," spoke Lord Anshar in a voice that sounded almost gentle.

Able sobbed as he pulled back on the bowstring, but his choice was made, and he released the arrow.

The Dragon Lord didn't even flinch as he snatched the projectile from the air before it made contact, and Able watched in panic as he snapped the arrow like a worthless twig within his hand.

"Do you really want to die?" asked Lord Anshar, to which Able could only shake his head as warm tears spilled down his cheeks and he took a slow step backward.

"Don't interfere again," warned Lord Anshar, and then he was gone.

Able dropped to his knees. He was all alone.

* * *

Kalee had just delivered the instructions for the scent masking potion to High Priestess Maven at the castle, but worry still clouded her mind. Maven had agreed to swear upon Tiamet's name that the information would remain a secret among the blessed and she would share the knowledge with any priestesses that came to the castle, but it had taken quite a while to get her cooperation in her inebriated state. It was evident that the High Priestess had all but given up on maintaining any control over the practitioners of the faith, choosing instead to wallow alone in her despair.

The castle was mostly deserted, only a few scattered clerics were still roaming the premises, and they had regarded her with nervous eyes and seemed reluctant to talk. She could only guess that word of Lord Anshar's heinous crimes had reached the castle and now even being seen with a priestess was cause to fear that the Dragon Lord would smite them in retribution. It was far from the warm welcome she was used to receiving upon her return to the devotee's base of operation, but she couldn't blame everyone for wanting to keep their distance.

" _Even with the ability to hide my scent, I could be next_ ," she clamped her eyes shut at the thought.

There was no fear, not for her. There was a certain part of herself that always longed for the sweet release of death. The world was eternally cursed by Chaos, and she had been born to bear the burden of Tiamet's blessing; a never-ending battle and a long life of loneliness as her only reward. But as many times as she thought about walking away, she never could, the call was too strong. The world needed priestesses, and she would never break her oath.

She quickly ran into the harbor city of Antherose and to the one place that still held meaning for her. When she arrived at an old building on one of the quieter city streets, she looked up and held her breath as she knocked on the door.

Nothing.

No answer. She tried to choke back her disappointment until she remembered something and took off down the next street.

She skidded to a halt as she rounded the corner and saw one of the city's wells. There was always a gathering of people drawing water at the well, doing laundry, gossiping, and that was when she saw her.

A frail little old woman, her hair white and wispy, her face etched with lines beyond number and tired eyes that complimented the sweetness of her smile as she watched the young children playing before her. Her gnarled hands clutched a walking stick as she sat on the edge of the well, enjoying the last of the temperate weather before the winter winds would afflict her rheumatism and send her indoors to huddle before her fire for the remainder of the long cold season.

Kalee signed in relief and approached the old woman.

"Joanie, hello!" she called and waved as she neared, drawing her attention.

"Auntie Kalee!" she cried and tried to stand up, but Kalee quickly halted her and moved in to sit beside her great-grand-niece.

"I've missed you," the frail woman said as she leaned closer to her aunt, almost in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I've missed you too. How's the family?"

"Numerous as jackrabbits. Thirty-four great-grandchildren now, the latest came just last month. You should come by later when everyone has returned home from the market and see her. She's beautiful."

Kalee gave a smile that did nothing to hide the sadness in her eyes. As tempting as the offer was, Joanie would be the last relative with whom she would ever seek to have a personal relationship. She had to watch her own beloved sister grow old and die, and then her children, and now her grandchildren too. She couldn't take the constant heart-ache of watching everyone leave her behind, and besides, she was so far removed from her living relatives now, she might as well have been a stranger.

"I'd like to stay, but Chaos waits for no one," she explained using the old expression that was so commonly repeated among those who worship the Dragon Mother.

"You will be in my prayers, as always," offered Joanie, and Kalee gave her a warm smile in thanks. They sat together for a while longer, enjoying the day and sharing old memories of happier days long past before at last, it was time for Kalee to leave.

Joanie rose with Kalee's help, and they embraced warmly when a small boy of around five years ran up and tugged at the old woman's skirts.

"GeeGee...who is that lady?" he asked in a loud whisper, and Kalee tried not to laugh.

"She's family," replied his great-grandmother.

* * *

Kalee stumbled out of the tavern and steadied herself onto the arm of the handsome ranger who was about to take her to someplace more private. He nibbled her ear, and she giggled in delight when suddenly she heard a familiar voice.

"One last dance before you die?" asked Favion.

Kalee stopped in her tracks and turned to face the judging eyes of the cleric.

"Aren't you needed elsewhere?" she snapped as she struggled to stand up straight and she realized how badly her own breath reeked of cheap rum.

"Piss off, buddy," added the ranger.

Favion narrowed his eyes and placed his hands on his holstered blades, but Kalee sensed that things were about to take an ugly turn and she quickly pulled away from her male escort.

"No. No. It's fine. I just remembered; I have to go now anyway. Chaos waits for no one," she said as she struggled to sober up.

"Aww, but come on. I thought we were going back to my room at the inn," whined the ranger as he took a step forward, but Favion quickly swooped in and stood next to his colleague.

"She's needed at the castle."

"Fine," huffed the ranger, who instead of returning to the tavern, turned on his heel and quickly stomped off down the street before disappearing into the night.

At last, Kalee turned to Favion with a scowl. "Needed at the castle? By who? Our drunk High Priestess?"

"Well, I had to come up with some excuse, and you're hardly one to criticize," he explained as he blinked hard in the face of her strong breath.

"Why are you here?" she asked in a quiet voice, her eyes lowering in defeat.

"You shouldn't be alone right now."

Kalee cocked an eyebrow before blurting; "I wasn't about to be!"

"All right, I don't want to be alone right now. I was on my way back to the castle from Master Uro's house. Things are dangerous right now. What if I never see you again?"

"I warned you before, don't get too familiar," she said.

With Favion it was particularly tempting; he had been an exceptionally good lover. He had a reputation for sampling the priestesses, but something had changed in him, and it made her afraid. He tried to play it off as just sex, but she had begun to see a look in his eye that warned her his feelings ran deeper than even he wanted to admit. Even in the pale moonlight, she could see fine lines around the edges of his eyes that hadn't been there years ago when she first met him. Years of traveling far and wide were already showing the signs of their wear on his handsome, youthful face, but he would not remain young forever. He would grow old, like Joanie, and he would die, and she would go on. Getting attached would break her heart, as well as her oath.

"Hey, come on. Don't be that way. I know you have an oath. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or anything," he callously replied.

That shouldn't have hurt, but it did. It hurt far worse than she could ever admit, and she shot him one last moist-eyed angry glair before turning and running into the night.

* * *

Elise stared into the fire where the last glowing embers consumed the parchment of the message she had just received from Mama Dragon's falcon. She had already recorded it to memory.

"I swear upon Tiamet's name, this knowledge will not pass beyond the blessed," she prayed aloud. It was too dark for her to search for the ingredients necessary to make the scent masking potion, but at first light, she would prepare the concoction and head out in search of other priestesses. She had to find them before Lord Anshar did.

She heard something moving through the trees and jumped up with her spear at the ready when suddenly she sighted the red uniform of a cleric as he stumbled into her campsite gasping for air.

"Elise! Praise Tiamet," cried Able as he suddenly collapsed into her arms, causing her to drop her spear to catch him in time.

"Able, what's happened to you?" cried Elise. Able was pale as death and sweating all over; his body trembled uncontrollably in her arms.

"Oh, Elise, they're dead!"

* * *

"And Tiamet cast out the false god, Zernebog, from heaven, and took Abzu as her mate. And she breathed the gift of life into all that the gods created, and life was good, and so it was pure. And Typhon came forth and spread the seed of discontent between the children of the gods and their human creations and..."

Edmond stopped reading from the sacred text and cast a glance at Dean who sat limply beside him. His lifeless eyes stared ahead out into the garden through the barred window. Spittle dribbled down the side of his slack mouth, and occasionally he would make a strange gurgling noise but never was a real word spoken. Edmond had come to the Weldison asylum on every free day he could spare, which was growing fewer and further between with the resurgence of the Chaos. Soon he feared they would call him back to Antherose. He did not want to leave Dean all alone in this place.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear manic screams that never ceased, incoherent mutterings, the slamming of heavy doors. The air was a mixture of piss, shit, and antiseptic hospital smell. The walls were stark and grey and all the shutters were open on the barred windows to let the fresh air and sunlight in. People wandered the halls aimlessly with shuffling steps and nurses bustled throughout the facility struggling to keep up with one patient or another.

No matter how many times he checked in on Dean, there was never any improvement, and he was wracked with guilt. Dean was young. He had his whole life ahead of him, but the Chaos had pierced into his mind, like so many others in the asylum, and now he was no more sentient than a plant. He knew that Dean had been scared, that he had not been ready for that mission. He should have never agreed to bring him along, and now he was utterly ruined. All he could do was visit, pray, and try to comfort Dean, though he had every reason to believe Dean didn't even know he was there.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed away the drool from Dean's face, then picked up the sacred text and picked up where he left off.

He read out loud for several more minutes until, at last, Codeon entered the room.

"He can't hear you," she said in a tired voice. She hated seeing Edmond do this to himself. It wasn't his fault.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter. I should be here for him," replied Edmond as he turned another page.

"Time's up. We're needed back in Antherose. I've just received word from Master Uro."

Edmond closed the sacred text with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose at the threat of an impending migraine. "He's still tracking the tears? What's the point?"

"What's the point of visiting a patient who doesn't know you're there? Maybe we're all fighting lost causes now, but it's still our job." She had already said her farewells to her husband. Spending the last few months at home made her question whether or not she should even continue as a cleric. She was no priestess. For her, there was not divine call, but even if the Goddess did not compel her, she was ruled by her own conscious. Their work was not yet done. Even if they were doomed. Even if everything was coming to an end, she could never give up the fight. She believed in her heart, though she didn't understand why, that somehow, there was still hope. And even if she were wrong, she would go out fighting for their world.

Edmond rose from his chair without a word and walked towards the exit of the room, but something made him stop and turn back. He could see the back of Dean's head haloed in the light from the window. He was slumped slightly to the side in his chair; his arms flopped over the armrests.

"See you later, Dean."

* * *

Halea sat by the campfire and contemplated removing her sling. It had been three days since they set out from the western lycan territories. Her arm felt normal except for some residual atrophy. Perhaps one more day of using it sparingly and she'd be entirely well, and with that thought in mind she pulled off the sling and tossed it into the fire.

"Halea?" she heard Varg ask in a disapproving tone that startled her as she hadn't noticed him reentering the camp. He had been out hunting, but he hadn't gone far.

"It's all right. I know I don't seem to heal as quickly as I did when my immortality came from Tiamet, but I still heal pretty fast thanks to what you've given me. The muscles are weak, and I'll have to do some stretches tomorrow to loosen them up, but it's time."

Varg still regarded her with a doubtful eye and a raised brow, but she was studying to be a healer, and he knew she was being honest with the assessment of her health. Her broken ribs had already completely healed in the last few days, and he had to admit that he was going to miss not carrying her for the last leg of their journey. He loved feeling her close, and as long as he carried her, he knew she was safe.

They had masked their scent for the entirety of their journey and avoided moving through any wide open spaces, even if that meant taking the longer way around. He was constantly keeping one eye on the sky. He had never seen a dragon fly, but he knew they could, and he had no guarantees that the dragon wouldn't change his mind and switch from hunting priestesses to coming for him and his mate. He did his best to keep his anxieties under control as Halea would sense it and he didn't want to put her under more stress than she had already been feeling. On top of worrying about her priestess friends, with every day they traveled she was becoming more and more anxious about arriving in the eastern lycan territory. With his pack, she had earned her place, especially after defeating Rafe. The news of the southern alpha's death had been sent ahead to the other packs by runners, but there was still the reality that while the other packs may now respect her; it didn't necessarily mean they would like her. He had no doubts that with time she could win over anyone, but he wasn't sure how long they would be in the east. It had taken her a while to adjust to his own pack, and now she would have to get used to yet another.

"Catch anything?"

"Of course," he boastfully replied as he displayed a few rabbits.

Halea had always been horrified to see him so easily skin and eat small creatures, and as kids, he had always taunted her for her delicate human sensibilities. Even now, as adults, he still got a mild kick out of watching her grow squeamish as he ate his bloody meal before her.

"Sure you don't want some?"

"Oh, stop it, you mangy wolf," she begged as she laughed and cringed at the same time. She was used to his teasing. She had already nearly finished her meal of travel cakes and smoke-dried meat.

"We should reach the eastern den by early afternoon tomorrow," he mentioned as they curled up together in front of the fire after they each finished their meals. He would be immensely relieved to finally have her once again in the relative safety of a den. He had been unable to shake the eerie sense that something was watching them. Their entire journey he had constantly sniffed the wind and kept his ears perked for any sounds or signs of danger. He hadn't even allowed himself to sleep, instead choosing to walk the parameter of their camp every night, one hand always firmly on the hilt of the fang. There would be no rest for him until he was sure that she was safe.

Halea stared nervously into the flames.

She didn't regret coming. There wasn't anywhere else she'd rather be than with Varg, but that didn't mean facing the eastern wolves would be easy. She hadn't seen any of them since the wolf gathering, and there had been many mixed feelings about her being a human among lycans. One she-wolf, in particular, had despised her existence to the point where they had fought, and the thought of seeing her again filled her with trepidation.

"It's okay," he gently whispered into her hair as he wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just...sometimes I worry that I make a lot of problems for you, as the Wolf King, I mean. I just want to be worthy of you in your people's eyes."

"Hey," he said in a stern tone as he gently cupped her cheek and turned her face so that she could see into his eyes. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. You are worthy. You're the only one who has ever been worthy to be my mate. No she-wolf could ever compare to you."

"I know you love me, and I know you have no regrets. It's just; I've always had to struggle to fit in. You're the one person who has always accepted me the way I am. And I'll love you to the end of time for it, but...you can't fight all my battles for me. I don't want your people to give me respect because I'm yours, or because I fought some jerk alpha. I want to earn my place because I'm me. I know I still have a lot to learn and a long way to go, but I really do want to become the sort of Wolfmother that's not just worthy of her alpha, but her people. I want your people to trust me. I want to help them. Sure, some have been jerks, but most have been really great, and a few have even given me an honest chance. I know I didn't take all this very seriously at first. I had no idea how much I had gotten myself into, but now that I know, I want to be a good Wolfmother."

Varg smiled gently, his bright blue eyes twinkling in the firelight as he softly stroked the hair that framed her face.

"You'll be the best Wolfmother there's ever been. I know it," he declared as he leaned in and kissed her with enough passion to steal her breath away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Well, Anshar, you sure have gotten...SCARY AF! Can Maven be trusted with the secret? Poor Kalee. Being a priestess is a shitty job, but nobody said saving the world would be easy. There are sacrifices and being immortal comes with a price. We've finally seen what happens to those who look into the face of Chaos. If that's what happened to poor Dean, no wonder Lord Anshar's lost his mind. Varg and Halea are almost to the eastern pack, and uh oh, a bitchy eastern she-wolf? Hmmm, I wonder who that could be? Things will go smoothly I'm sure.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading through book 2. I love hearing from you guys so please let me know what you think of the story. I truly treasure every comment I receive, so please, please, please let me know what you think.


	16. The Eastern Pack

Deep within the eastern mountains laid a canyon that was carved by the flow of a lazy river. The water was as clear as crystal and ice-cold with recent snowfall as Varg and Halea followed it into the eastern den.

Howls announced their approach as the den first came into view. It was nestled deep within the canyon on both sides of the river. Halea had never seen such a civilization. There were few tree-dwellings as the mountains that rose up on both sides of the river were filled with many caves that looked out over the water. Several bridges allowed for easy crossing between the two sides. One particularly massive tree rose out of a small island that rested in the widest part of the river and within its branches sat an elegant tree-dwelling that looked to have been there for a very long time. The limbs of the great tree grew organically around the structure, and Halea tried to imagine what it would look like in the spring or summer when the branches weren't as barren as they were now that the last of the autumn leaves had fallen.

Long ago shelves had been carved along the mountainsides allowing the lycans to gather outdoors even in times when the water was high. Halea couldn't see what the shelves were like from where she was below, but she could tell the communal fire pits had to be up there on each side by the way many of the lycans gathered around in small clusters. Such an arrangement made it all the more uncomfortable as they walked into the den and she could feel the many eyes staring down on her from the shelves above.

Varg placed his hand on the small of her back to reassure her as the scent of her anxiety began to permeate the air and across their bond. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves as Ethelwolf approached in welcome, he was flanked on either side by an entourage of warriors. They didn't appear as wary as the last time she encountered the eastern wolves, and she hoped they were at least somewhat familiar with her from the last time she met them at the wolf gathering.

Ethelwolf approached and greeted Varg with a respectful bow, to which Varg nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"Welcome, my King," greeted the eastern leader as his face lit up with a genuine smile.

Varg smiled brightly in return, and soon the two were embracing and patting each other on the back. Several of the warriors bowed their heads in respect before also similarly greeting Varg.

"It's good to have you back, Varg," said one of the warriors.

"We've missed having you in the east," said another.

"It's not too late to get some hunting in before the snow gets heavy; we should plan a celebration for your return," added a large warrior with jet-black hair and bright emerald green eyes.

Halea stood back from the cluster of excited lycans, feeling invisible, but also being somewhat relieved that no one seemed to be paying her much attention. She glanced around her to notice several more lycans had come down to the river's edge to join in on the welcoming of Varg. There were quite a few females, some looked wistfully at Varg, as if they longed to greet him, and others turned their eyes on her with contempt. Halea tried to remain calm as she was reminded that Varg had spent many years of his adolescence among these lycans. He must have disappointed a lot of she-wolves in that time. Varg had explained that he had never allowed any other females to come as close to him as she was, and therefore, to the best of his knowledge, no she-wolf had been given the opportunity to forge the level of emotional connection necessary to make him their chosen. He knew he could feel nothing for anyone in those dark years, and he didn't want to devastate the life of any female who would be unfortunate enough to choose him. An unrequited chosen could leave a lycan with a broken heart for years beyond measure if the love were strong enough. It had always been best for him to keep his distance, but such aloof behavior did nothing to lessen his appeal for the unmated she-wolves of the eastern pack. Many had tried their best to gain Varg's affection, and all had failed, but none had been as tenacious in their pursuit of Varg as Otsana.

The familiar she-wolf stood back from the growing crowd, and her eyes narrowed when Halea noticed her. The female lycan quickly turned on her heel and stormed out of the common area, and Halea let out a sigh of relief when she was gone. Otsana had once been bold enough to fight her for the right to be Varg's mate, and Halea had unapologetically beaten the shit out of her. A part of her pitied the woman; perhaps she had really loved Varg? It was hard to blame any woman for falling head-over-heels for her mate. Varg had insisted that was not the case and that Otsana only wanted an alpha for a mate, and that he had never felt anything but annoyance or indifference towards her. Halea couldn't help but wonder why Otsana was so desperate for an alpha mate. As far as she knew, lycans took mating for love very seriously. Without a mutual love, there could never be a bond. They did not choose partners for gain the way some humans did, nor did the fall prey to infidelity once mated. Halea took some comfort in knowing, that once mated, one could sooner separate the ocean from the shore than come between a bonded pair. Lycans mated for life, and their loyalty was absolute, which apparently made them quite different from many other types of therians who had their own unique mating practices.

The many admiring females made her uncomfortable because she could tell they disliked her, whether for being human, or for being the one person to lay claim to Varg's affection, but she did not feel threatened by them. The connection she shared with Varg since being mated left her with no doubts, he was hers completely.

"I appreciate the offer, Fenris, but I've come to the east on an urgent matter, and I doubt I'll have time for sport," Varg replied to the dark-haired wolf, who looked disappointed.

Halea's heart skipped a beat when Ethelwolf finally turned his eyes on her.

" _Don't bow. Don't bow. Don't bow_ ," she thought as she struggled to deny the urge to act submissive before the powerful gaze of the eastern alpha. She would lose what little respect she had if she submitted before anyone but Varg, and she especially needed to assert her dominance among the mostly unfamiliar pack, or, as Varg had reminded her, they would walk all over her.

"Supreme Wolfmother, welcome to my den," greeted Ethelwolf with a bow that was far less enthusiastic than the one he offered Varg, to which Halea gently nodded her head. "Forgive us for not acknowledging you sooner, but we were overjoyed to be reunited with Varg. He was nearly one of us for many years, and it's good to have him home," spoke Ethelwolf in a stiff and formal manner, but she could tell his eyes grew gentle and the corners of his lips rose ever so slightly when he spoke of Varg.

She knew Varg had been popular among his people, even when he was a child, and she couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to be so universally loved. Halea had never known what it was like to be popular. The closest she had come to being accepted by other humans was during her time as a priestess, and even amongst them, she was often the odd one out due to her youth and introverted behavior. When they were children, she had often been baffled that a boy with so many friends of his own age would prefer to spend so much of his time with her instead of others of his own kind. If not for Varg's father's cold indifference toward his son after the death of his mate, the unlikely pair would have never become friends, but there was not a day that went by that she didn't thank the gods for having brought them together.

"Thank you for your kind welcome. Your den is very impressive. I've never seen anything like it, especially that magnificent tree-dwelling."

Ethelwolf smiled warmly at Halea's words and his eyes lit up. "Thank you, Wolfmother; that is my home. I built it centuries ago. As you can probably see the tree has grown so much in that time that I've had to reposition the structural pieces more than once, but it's still holding firm," he explained. Three-dwellings did have the issue of needing maintenance as the tree would inevitably grow causing the structural pieces of the dwelling to shift with time. Sometimes the structural pieces could be adjusted, other times the home would have to be completely dismantled for maintenance and reassembled once the job was complete.

Ethelwolf had a general dislike of humans, but he was tolerant of priestesses due to their usefulness, and though Halea was no longer a servant of Tiamet, she was still Varg's mate. While he had his misgivings about the strange human woman, Varg's happiness was important to him. He had fondly watched Varg grow into a man during his time in the eastern territory, and he had seen how emotionally cold the young lycan had been during those years. If the strange human woman made his young king happy, he was willing to be tolerant. News of Rafe's death by the human Supreme Wolfmother's hand had particularly surprised him. Rafe was no easy opponent, and anyone who could defeat an alpha-male lycan was worthy of respect. Many could scarcely believe that it was even true, but the messenger did not lie. Ethelwolf had no reason to disbelieve that Rafe would be foolish enough to attack the mate of their king. He was not sorry that the malcontent alpha was gone.

Varg managed to separate himself from the enthusiastic crowd of welcomers to stand beside Halea as she finished her pleasantries with Ethelwolf. The eastern alpha turned back towards his pack as if something had just garnered his attention.

Suddenly the crowd of gathered lycans divided, making room for a female who walked towards Ethelwolf. Halea noticed many bowing their heads in submission as the she-wolf passed and it suddenly occurred to her; this lycan woman looked almost identical to Otsana. She had the same flowing chestnut tresses and deep blue eyes, though she appeared a few inches shorter and her figure was more voluptuous, whereas Otsana had a more athletic build.

" _I didn't know she had a sister_ ," thought Halea as the lycan female stopped upon reaching Ethelwolf and turned to look up at the large male with adoring eyes. Ethelwolf looked down at the she-wolf, and his eyes changed to reveal an expression Halea had never seen from the eastern alpha - a look of intense longing and love.

"You're home just in time," he said as he reached out and warmly embraced the female lycan and Halea suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable at the open display of affection. The she-wolf nuzzled Ethelwolf's neck with her nose and reached up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his smiling lips.

Varg placed a gentle hand on Halea's back as he sensed her embarrassment, but when she looked up at him, he was smiling at the two lycan's show of affection. For lycans this was perfectly normal, they were a very physically affectionate people, especially towards mates, and Halea had realized the moment they kissed; this was not Otsana's sister - it was her mother.

Ethelwolf led his mate before Varg and Halea, and the female lycan bowed her head respectfully.

"Úlfa, how are you? You weren't at the last gathering," asked Varg.

"Welcome home, Varg. Forgive me. I would have liked to have been there to see you become king with my own eyes, but with Ethelwolf gone, someone had to mind the den and lead the burial services from all those demon attacks. Many young mothers had to stay behind, and I had my hands full with so many cubs running around and most of the males gone."

Varg and the eastern Wolfmother exchanged a friendly embrace, and Halea had to struggle to accept the fact that this woman, though she looked young, was perhaps centuries old if she was anything like her mate. Varg might have once been like a son to her, maybe he still was.

Úlfa was a true Wolfmother in every sense, and Halea's stomach sank as she realized just how much she was lacking. The female alpha carried herself with the confidence and dignity of a queen, and it was obvious she commanded great respect from her people. It was clear that she took her duties seriously and poured herself into the care and wellbeing of her pack, even at the expensive of her own desires. Ethelwolf had the support of not just a mate, but a partner, someone who shared his responsibilities as a leader of the pack. Halea felt miserable and self-conscious as it occurred to her just how little she did to help Varg.

Varg sensed Halea's mood take a depressed and self-deprecating turn for the worse through the bond, and he quickly guessed the nature of her concerns. "I've brought my mate, this is Halea," Varg proudly introduced as he wrapped his arm around Halea's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her and let her know that she was in no way lacking to him. It did little good though, as Úlfa regarded Halea with her dark blue eyes that narrowed ever so slightly.

"So you're the human Supreme Wolfmother I've heard so much about," she said, her voice noticeably less warm and welcoming than it had been when she addressed Varg. "I welcome you to the eastern pack's den. You must be very powerful indeed to have defeated Alpha Rafe, and also my daughter."

Cold sweat trickled down Halea's back. She didn't have to have a lycans' sense of smell to know that she probably reeked of anxiety as she did her best to not break eye contact with the piercing stare of the eastern Wolfmother. Ethelwolf had not bothered to concern himself in the squabble between her and Otsana, for which she had been grateful. If anything, he had been disgraced by his daughter's behavior for attacking a priestess after the high council had already made the agreement that the priestesses would be allowed to perform their duties unharmed within lycan territories. Varg had done his best to smooth over the incident at the time by assuring the eastern alpha that the fight was of a personal nature and was to be considered settled as Otsana had already been more than thoroughly punished by Halea.

Halea nearly choked, as she struggled not to cower in apology before the alpha glare of the eastern Wolfmother. She could concede nothing without losing face. She knew by lycan customs she had not been in the wrong for beating the tar out of Otsana, who had been the original aggressor, but she certainly couldn't blame any parent for feeling defensive of their child. She had only just arrived, and she could already tell she was on Úlfa's bad side, and she struggled to think of something to say as an uncomfortable silence permeated the air.

"Otsana made a poor choice. I never had the opportunity to apologize for my daughter's behavior towards you, Halea, but you have my word; it won't happen again. Let's not speak of it anymore. Come. It's time we talk in private about what really brings the son of Bledig to my lands," interjected Ethelwolf.

Úlfa cast Halea a cold smile that revealed the tips of her gleaming fangs as she turned with her mate and led them towards the island tree-dwelling.

The crowd quickly disbursed, and Varg and Halea followed the eastern alphas across a sturdy wooden bridge and up a spiraling stairway into the massive tree. Halea couldn't help letting her eyes wander as she admired the spacious home. Grass mats woven with intricate patterns covered the floors, and there was comfortable furniture covered in soft furs near wide open windows from which entered a gentle breeze. Nestled within the wall was a smoldering hearth, and Úlfa quickly went to work brewing tea to serve for her guests as Halea and Varg sat together with Ethelwolf around a round wooden table that was so finely polished it felt as smooth as glass beneath Halea's fingertips.

"Your runner left a few days ago, but he told me that you would be coming. I take it this is not a territorial inspection. You don't have to tell me. We've seen the return of demons here in the east as well."

As the Wolf King, Varg would be expected to occasionally make visits to the other packs to oversee lycan affairs and continued cooperation from the other alphas. Such territorial inspections also offered the other packs the opportunity to hold council with their king and request aid or advice on pressing lycan matters, or even, to express grievances.

"I wish it were that simple, but there's more," replied Varg. He continued to explain not only the return of the demons, but of the dragon therian, his quest to find the swordmaster, his failed attempt at leaving Halea behind only for her to be challenged by Rafe in his absence, and his return to discover the priestesses of Tiamet. Though, he conveniently didn't mention their specific request for the secret of the scent masking potion.

Úlfa poured tea and joined them at the table. She cast her mate a worried glance, to which Ethelwolf only nodded, resulting in the she-wolf to rise again and disappear into the other room. Halea wondered at their strange silent communication, but for the moment, she was just grateful the other Wolfmother wasn't glaring at her. When the she-wolf reentered the room, she was carrying a long wrapped bundle in her arms which she passed to her mate.

Ethelwolf shook his head regretfully once Varg was done explaining why they had come. "I once met Lord Anshar, briefly. Dragons are strange therians, at least he was, but he successfully sealed the tear that opened near these lands centuries ago, and I had respect for him for fulfilling his duty as a servant of the Dragon Goddess. She is not one of our gods, but Tiamet has her purpose. With the Dragon Lord in the hands of the Chaos, we may be lost. Whether you succeed in slaying him or not, he was the only being powerful enough to banish the convergence."

"It's true that only Lord Anshar can wield the Blade That Cuts Through Worlds, and that he no longer cares to stop the coming Chaos, but that doesn't mean all is lost. I can't explain it. I just feel it - inside. I can no longer serve the Goddess as a priestess, but her power will always live within me. Her voice will always call me. The will of Tiamet compels me to fight, as it still does to all who are born blessed. I don't think she has given up. I don't know why, or how, but I trust her...still. There has to be a way," spoke Halea as she stared sorrowfully at the back of her hands.

"If there is a way, perhaps Corbin can help you. I have not seen him in nearly two centuries, not since the last convergence in the east, but I know he's still alive."

"Are you sure?" asked Varg.

"Corbin is more than just a therian; he is a first descendant, the son of Morigan, the god of the dead. He walks between this world and the next and has the power to see visions of the future, but it is not for us to know such things unless it is absolutely necessary. The knowledge of the gods comes with a heavy price. Only Corbin decides with whom he will share his wisdom, and he will only carry those he deems worthy into the realm of the gods. But, he will see you. This I know."

"How?"

"Yesterday, I found this. It's a message," explained Ethelwolf as he unwrapped the long bundle that lay across the table to reveal a single, arm-length, oil black feather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Sheeee's baaaaaack. Let's hope Otsana minds her manners this time. Úlfa, though, hmmm? Let's hope mommy isn't mad or things could get ugly.
> 
> A couple days ago I had a dream/nightmare and woke up at 4am and spent 4 hours manically writing a new short story. You can find it if you check my profile. It's called; "The Hole." It's complete. It's a quick read and it's a contemporary horror/suspense. Sorry, not a fantasy romance (I actually dabble in many genres, but fantasy is my favorite). If you're a horror fan and want to read a scary story, I'd love it if you guys could check it out and let me know what you think. But don't read it if you have anxiety, it's pretty intense.
> 
> As for this story, as always, thank you so much for reading, and if you're enjoying Blood Bound, please please please let me know what you think. I will be so grateful. Your support is the fuel for my soul.


	17. A Field of Daisies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: What the hell? A chapter on Thursday? Yes. I'm going to be out of town all day tomorrow (Friday) and it was either give you guys this chapter a day early, or a day late, and I decided you were all so awesome, you deserved it a day early.

Halea had never seen such a large feather before.

"He's sent feathers before, but only on the brink of some great calamity, when he needed to tell me of one of his visions. Thankfully, he has never taken me into the realm of the gods. The last time he asked me to come to him, it was to tell me of the convergence that happened centuries ago, and that I shouldn't hinder the Dragon Lord in his duty. At first, I thought this message was for me, but its timely arrival means he knew you would come. He knew you were seeking him, and he will see you," explained Ethelwolf as he carefully rewrapped the feather and pushed it towards Varg.

"Halea and I will set out right away," declared Varg as he rose from the table. "Where can I find him?"

"Forgive me, Varg, but I don't think you should take your mate, at least not on your first meeting. You must not risk the wrath of a first descendant. When he shared his visions with me, it was under the condition that I reveal the knowledge to no one else, which is why Batsuba didn't know if he was even still alive when she told you to seek him in the east. I have kept this quiet. He forbade me from revealing all the knowledge that he shared, even from my mate. If he wishes to meet with Halea, he will ask you to bring her at a later time. Until then, make no assumptions, and whatever you do, even though you're our king, don't be disrespectful. He is not one of us. He is close to the gods."

Varg scowled in irritation. The whole reason he brought Halea was to ensure she would be safe. The last time he turned his back, she was nearly killed.

Halea sensed Varg's hesitation and frustration, and she reached for his hand, which he clasped in return with a sigh.

"I understand after what happened with Rafe; you're loath to let her out of your sight. I don't blame you. I would feel the same way in such a situation but take comfort. Corbin is not far. At full speed, you could reach his mountaintop in three to four hours and you two are more than welcome to make my den your home until your mission is complete. I give you my word as an alpha; no one will harm Halea here. My people will protect her. She is our Supreme Wolfmother now, human though she is, and she will be honored as such," offered Ethelwolf as he witnessed the conflict in Varg's eyes.

This was their only hope, and Halea knew she couldn't allow Varg's overprotective nature to cloud his judgment. "It's okay, Varg. You and I know Ethelwolf is honest. He's certainly nothing like Rafe. You won't be nearly so far away this time, and I promise you, I won't do anything stupid. I won't wander off alone. I won't take any unnecessary risks with my life, and especially not with yours. If Corbin wants to see you, you have to go. We need all the help we can get. I'll be fine," she promised.

After another moment of tense contemplation, Varg finally nodded his head in agreement. Varg trusted Ethelwolf to keep his word; the older alpha took his honor seriously and lycans couldn't lie. He wouldn't be nearly so far away this time, and he knew Halea wouldn't dare go anywhere alone after what happened with Rafe. The eastern pack was the largest of the lycan packs and well fortified within the mountains. Time was against them; he couldn't turn back now.

Ethelwolf told Varg the way to the crow's nest, and after their plans were set, Úlfa led them to the king's cave.

The king's cave was a large, well-kept and comfortable dwelling that was set aside for when the Wolf King came to the eastern pack to stay for visits.

"It's good to know that this cave will be yours again. I would have been very disappointed if anyone else came to stay here," commented Úlfa, as she lit a few lamps set in the stone walls and rolled out fresh furs for her guests.

Halea looked around with wide eyes as she tried to imagine what Varg's life must have been like in this home during those years they were apart. It had much of the same rustic charm and luxuries as their cave in the western den, but the ceiling was higher, and the stalactites glittered with aragonite crystals.

Varg regarded a regal chair of dark polished wood with a high back and prominent antler armrests. He ran his hand along the smooth surface on the back of the chair and clenched his eyes shut as old memories swiftly returned. Halea could sense sadness and regret permeating their bond, and she knew it was probably where his father had once sat, here in this very cave.

"You two may rest until dinner; you look like you could use it. Someone will come to fetch you when it's time," offered Úlfa as she left them alone.

"This was your home," Halea stated more so than asked.

"Once," replied Varg, who opted to sit on the large bed rather than in his father's old chair.

Halea sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, and she sighed as she felt him rest his head on hers.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tonight; maybe sooner. I'd like to set out now, but I can sense you don't want to dine alone with a bunch of mangy wolves on your first night here."

"Leave in the morning. Please," she pleaded.

"We've already lost too much time."

"You're exhausted. You're not fooling me. I know you haven't slept in nearly two weeks. Even a therian has a breaking point. Besides you're so cranky when you're tired."

"According to you, I'm cranky all the time anyway. Lycans can get by with far less sleep than you puny humans. I'll be fine."

"Varg...I don't know what's waiting for you out there. I don't know what you'll find. I worry about you too. Please, rest tonight; for me."

Varg let out a defeated sigh. She was right. He hadn't slept in weeks, and he was starting to feel weary. He'd been too high-strung to allow himself to relax or let down his guard. He knew being an alpha was stressful, he was used to that, he was always concerned with the wellbeing of his pack, but it was different now that he had a mate. He was beginning to worry he wouldn't be strong enough to save her, and it frightened him. She wanted him to depend on her more, to not try to shoulder all the burdens by himself, but he was at war with his instincts. An alpha should be strong enough to protect everyone, it was his duty, and he couldn't afford to fail.

There was a larger gathering at the alpha's fire pit for dinner than Halea had anticipated. She had been convinced that many would avoid the occasion due to her alien presence, but it seemed everyone wanted a chance to reconnect with Varg. There were many who hadn't attended the last gathering, but who remembered Varg fondly from his time growing up in the east.

"I knew you'd make Supreme Alpha, no offense Alpha Ethelwolf," said Fenris as the warriors were congratulating Varg on his victory. Ethelwolf was unfazed by such comments, he was proud of Varg as well, and he definitely was not ashamed to call any son of Bledig, his king. Bledig had been a great king, a true alpha, and a dear friend, and Varg had been raised well to follow in his path. Except for the eyes of his mother, Varg was the image of his father, and it was as if his old friend had returned from the grave. It was good to have him in the eastern pack again.

Halea's eyes roamed the circle of gatherers, mostly males, except for a few female elders and Úlfa who met her gaze with a sharp look and an intimidating smile that slowly extended to reveal the tips of her fangs. Halea smiled nervously in return, then tried to casually look away as she noticed another fire pit not far from theirs comprised almost entirely of she-wolves. Among them she spotted Otsana, a sour look on her pretty face as many of the gathered females appeared to be trying to cheer her up. The moment she sensed the human's eyes on her she shot her a deathly glare. Halea wanted to quickly avert her eyes; embarrassed to have been caught staring, but she had to maintain her authority as Supreme Wolfmother, especially with Otsana. She lifted her chin ever so slightly to let the she-wolf know that her threatening gaze meant nothing to her, then she pretended to suddenly be interested in the food on her plate once more.

" _Enemies to the left of me. Enemies to the right_ ," Halea thought bitterly. She put up such a fuss about not being left behind, but now that she was here, she almost wished she hadn't, but it was too late now. She would speak no more of her insecurities to Varg. He had enough troubles weighing him down, and she was determined to prove to him that she was a true Wolfmother and that she could, and would, kick the ass of anyone who tried to give her any trouble.

Varg wasn't sure what suddenly caused his mate to feel so fired up, her emotions had been all over the place a moment before, but he was relieved to sense determination from her.

Though she was exhausted by the time they returned to the king's cave, she was determined not to fall asleep until she was sure that Varg was also resting.

"You don't trust me?"

"No, you mangy wolf! The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner I will too, and I'll wait all night if I have to," she argued as they crawled into bed.

Varg just smirked at her bossy attitude. She had a point, he was far too tired to argue, and he had no idea what the next day would bring. She snuggled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair, enjoying her warmth and her comforting scent before finally falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

For once it was Halea who had to wake Varg in the morning, and she was sorry to do so, but she knew he wanted an early start.

They embraced at the edge of the den and Halea shivered at the loss of his warmth once he finally set off into the mountains. Soft snow was falling from the gray sky, and the cold air stung her moist eyes, but she refused to cry. She had to be stronger this time - for him.

She could feel the eyes of the lycans upon her as she walked back through the den. She wasn't too sure about what to do with her time. She couldn't continue her healing studies without Batsuba, and with the snow now blanketing the ground, there was little plant life of medicinal value to be had. Besides accompanying Varg, she had only one other mission, and so with her head held high, she walked up the spiral stair into Ethelwolf's tree-dwelling.

The alpha male was not home, but it wasn't him that she had come to see.

Úlfa looked up at her from the piece of white leather she was crafting. Halea could tell it would eventually be some sort of clothing article, but it was too soon to tell what exactly, and she didn't care to ask.

"Welcome, fellow Wolfmother. Allow me to fetch us some hot tea," she offered as she rose.

Halea had a hard time reading the alpha female, but she assumed she was just polite as a formality. There was a certain stiffness in the way she spoke.

"Please, don't trouble yourself. I'm just here to ask about your burial grounds. Are they close?"

Úlfa regarded Halea with a curious expression. "It's just up the north-western pass. You can see the den from up there, so it's not far. May I ask what it is you seek among our dead?"

"Ulrica asked me to deliver something."

"Ah!" acknowledged the she-wolf, Halea's mission suddenly becoming clear.

"I will need an escort if anyone can be spared. I gave Varg my word."

There was a sudden and strange manic twinkle in the dark blue eyes of the eastern Wolfmother, and the corners of her lips rose to reveal her gleaming white fangs. "Of course. If you wait at the north-western edge of the den, I'll send someone right over."

Halea had a strange sinking feeling. There was something very odd about Úlfa, and she wasn't at all sure if she could trust her, but she swallowed her concern and went outside.

Halea sat on a fallen log at the edge of the den, huddle in her fur-lined cloak and clutching the small bundle from Ulrica in her arms. It seemed as if she had been waiting for quite a while, but she tried to remain patient. After all, what member of the eastern pack would willingly want to spend their day babysitting a strange human Wolfmother? She imagined Úlfa was having a hard time finding volunteers, and she cringed imagining the grumpy wolf she was about to meet.

The wolf who finally came to meet her was far grumpier than she could have possibly imagined and her eyes opened wide as Otsana approached.

"Hmph! What could you possibly want in our burial grounds, human?" barked the she-wolf the moment she was near. She was so angry, her face was red, and Halea had to remind herself once again that, technically, she was the one in charge.

Halea stood up as straight as possible, she had always been tall for a woman, and she wanted to seem as imposing as possible as she met the furious female's angry gaze.

"Why would she send you?"

"I know better than to question my mother when she's fixing me with her alpha glare. She just said I had to come out here and guard you, whether I liked it or not, and that if I didn't, I'd have to answer to her, father, and Varg."

"Well, good to know you're still bitter," grumbled Halea, who did not feel like pretending that they were about to be friends.

Otsana growled, the inhuman sound echoed through the trees, her face growing even redder. "You, bitch! Don't think that just because Varg mated you that I'm going to bow to you as my Wolfmother. You're just a..."

She wasn't given the opportunity to finish her tirade as Halea quickly sprang forth and punched her in the mouth, causing the she-wolf to fall back onto the snow with force.

"You listen to me," said Halea, in a threatening tone as she quickly stood over the stunned female who was holding her hand over her busted lip. "I kicked your ass once, and I will do it again. Now, you get up and come with me, or I'll make what your parents and Varg could do to you look like a picnic. Move!"

Otsana narrowed her eyes, but the color quickly drained from her face, and without further word, she rose to her feet with a huff and a dismissive shake of her shoulders as she moved ahead of Halea and began to lead her up the north-western pass.

As they climbed the trail, Halea kept a close watch on her silent companion, who never looked behind her. The only sounds were the crunching of their feet in the snow. She knew she had a bad feeling about Úlfa. She was cursing herself for not having assumed the two would try to collude against her while Varg was away.

" _I guess my reputation for killing Rafe didn't do me any favors after all. I should have known it wouldn't change anything._ _Does Úlfa want Otsana to kill me? But that would kill Varg! Is Úlfa so angry that Varg chose me over her daughter that she'd see him dead? I thought she liked Varg. And what of Ethelwolf? I thought he cared for Varg. Surely he would know what his mate and daughter were plotting? He gave his word! I thought lycans couldn't lie. Something doesn't make sense_ ," she frantically pondered as her hand unconsciously stroked the knife still concealed beneath her robe. Even though she couldn't understand what Úlfa's intentions were, she would be on her guard. She wasn't going to let anyone challenge her again. She was going to prove to Varg that she could fight her own battles.

When they reached the top, there were many cairns and burial plots scattered along the mountainside as well as stone makers that were slowly being buried beneath the snow. She carefully knocked the snow from one of the markers to reveal a name carved in lycan writing. Halea could read in the ancient language, but lycans had their own form of writing that they all learned at an early age. Varg had shown it to her before, as it was carved on many of their statues and throughout their caves, and he had read the markings aloud for her, but she really didn't have time to learn it, and now she was regretting that she hadn't.

"What does this say?"

"Can't you read?" snapped Otsana.

"Just tell me what it says."

Otsana read the name, but it wasn't the marker she was looking for.

"I'm looking for Gerwulf."

"Oh, him," said Otsana as she led her a little further through the burial grounds and to a stone marker that she brushed free of snow. "He's here."

"Thanks," said Halea in a somewhat begrudging manner as she knelt down and began to clear the snow from the soil in front of the marker. The ground was already hard with frost, and she had to pull out her knife and use it to loosen the soil which she scooped aside making a small hole.

She pulled out the bundle that Ulrica had given her and untied it to reveal its contents. Dried meats that had once been the deceased's favorite food were removed and placed into the hole, as well as several animal teeth, a few small remnants of antler and fur, and of greater sentimental value, a small bouquet of daisies that had been pressed dry. Halea gently placed the dried flowers into the hole, being careful not to break the fragile petals. The last items caused tears to form in Halea's eyes, but she did her best to choke them back as she lovingly added a lock of Daisy's hair and a tiny pair of leather baby booties into the hole before she silently entered into prayer.

Ulrica had already made her prayers to the wolf gods, but Halea wanted to add her own. His soul was undoubtedly in the hands of the wolf gods, and though she didn't know them the way she knew Tiamet, she did her best to ask them to grant rest, comfort, and peace to the departed. The only other time she had ever offered prayers to the wolf gods was when she had prayed that Varg would not be killed during his battle to become the Wolf King. As far as she could tell, no harm had come of it, and she hoped that if the prayers were for the benefit of lycans, perhaps they wouldn't mind that a human was offering them.

Ulrica, despite her youthful immortal appearance, was not a young lycan. She was well over five hundred years old, and she had never found her one true mate, but that didn't stop her from yearning for a child. She had met Gerwulf when the western pack had escaped the devastation of the convergence and taken refuge in the east. Gerwulf had also given up on choosing a mate, but when he learned of Ulrica's desire for progeny they had entered into a mutual relationship with the intention of raising children together. They were very fond of each other, and it was not uncommon for unmated lycans to still raise children with willing partners. Ulrica had only just barely discovered her pregnancy before Varg announced that the pack would be returning to the west. A part of her wanted to stay with Gerwulf, but the western den was her home, and she had been homesick for it ever since coming to the east. Gerwulf was a valuable warrior for the eastern pack and very much needed as demons were still a reoccurring problem at that time, but he had promised her he would join her as soon as the threats in the east were minimized. He wanted to be there for his cub's birth, and he had every intention of staying with Ulrica in the west until his child was grown, but it was not to be. He had been killed in a demon attack. Gerwulf never got to meet his daughter, and Ulrica was left to raise their child alone.

"Before I left for the west, I asked him what I should name our cub. He said Ingolf if it were a boy, but Daisy if it were a girl," Ulrica had once reminisced to Halea with a laugh. Daisy was not a traditional lycan name, nor a name from the ancient language, but it was the commemoration of a sweet memory the two had shared. Their baby had been conceived in a sunlit field of flourishing daisies, and Ulrica blushed a bright shade of red when she explained why Gerwulf had chosen the name.

"I'd like to think that maybe in time, we could have grown closer. Some lycans do choose each other after a cub brings them together. We deeply cared for each other, and I often miss him. He was kind of strange, but so is Daisy. I think he would have loved her so much if only he had lived," Ulrica confessed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Ulrica could not make the pilgrimage to Gerwulf's grave, though she longed to make an offering. She couldn't leave Daisy, and the toddler was far too young to travel, especially in the winter. Halea had felt honored when Ulrica had explained the significance of this lycan mourning tradition and asked her to carry the small bundle of offerings to the grave of her child's father in her place. Ulrica had been kind and welcoming to her, and she was delighted for the opportunity to do this small favor for the she-wolf.

Halea gently covered the mementos with the loose soil and stood up.

For all of Otsana's faults, she had been respectful enough, at least of the dead, to allow Halea to make her prayer and offering in peace. She had observed the human woman closely as she performed the mourning rituals commonly practiced by lycans. At least she had shown proper respect for the dead, and Otsana could find no fault with Halea's behavior.

"I'm done," said Halea as she started towards the path that would lead them back down into the den.

"Hey," called Otsana from behind her.

Halea cringed before turning to face the she-wolf.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" asked Halea.

"Did you really kill an alpha?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: I'm so excited, next chapter we get to meet the swordmaster! :D Finally! Úlfa is mighty suspicious. What do you think she's up to by picking one of Halea's worst enemies to be her guard? Yes, Otsana is back. I've always had a lot of plans for her character. If you hated her in the last book, good, you were supposed to, but what about now? Has she learned her lesson? She certainly still seems to be a cranky bitch. Perhaps she's up to something? I'm going to dedicate this chapter to RosesnWater who is literally the ONLY person who wanted to see Otsana return, and I think you will like what I have in store for her. MWAHAHAHA.
> 
> As always, thank you so much to every reader! Please let me know what you think of the story. I love hearing from you guys. Even the smallest word from my readers does worlds for brightening my day.


	18. Worthy

The falling snow covered the last of their tracks. Their scent had vanished. Lord Anshar clasped his hand to his forehead as his vision momentarily blacked out and terror seized him as he was once again alone in the darkness.

 _Remake the world_.

When once again he opened his eyes he was standing among the snow-covered trees. Every time he stopped, every time he hesitated, the voice returned, the darkness swallowed him, especially when he thought of _her_. The invisible claws would find him and tear into his flesh without mercy until he abandoned all thoughts but the desire to remake the world. He ached to find her, to see her once more, but he had been given a mission, and the voice would not let him rest.

Now, the priestesses had discovered some way to elude him. But if he could not find them, he would make them come to him, and he knew just how to do it.

His face elongated, his claws became talons, his wings spread and blocked out the sun, and soon the dragon was flying into the west, towards Antherose.

* * *

"They say you killed Rafe, but I don't believe it. It's not possible! You're a human, and a woman."

"What does that have to do with it?" asked Halea.

"Well, did you?" asked Otsana again.

"Yes. I killed Rafe. What, are you looking to avenge him? You know he's the one who attacked me," Halea defensively replied as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Otsana inhaled deeply, looking for the scent of anxiety, the scent of lies, but there was nothing, and her eyes widened in shock.

"How?"

Halea made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan before finally answering. "Look, I'm not an ordinary human, and I never have been. Not only am I blessed by a goddess who has given me strength and speed, but I'm a highly trained warrior. Trust me; you had no idea who you were messing with that day you messed with me. Varg taught me to fight when we were still young, and he was trained by his father who was the wolf king before him, then I was trained by my grandfather who is one of the most powerful and respected clerics of Tiamet in nearly an age. Not to mention, Lord Anshar, arguably the most powerful therian alive, also helped to train me as I got older. Perhaps if you wolves weren't so prejudiced just because I'm a human, you'd quit underestimating me. Rafe underestimated me, and now he's dead. So do you really want to try me again?"

Otsana's face reddened, and her eyes narrowed, but to Halea's surprise, the she-wolf merely nodded 'no' before moving ahead of her down the path.

"Well, hurry up," she barked as she turned to look back at Halea, who stepped quickly to catch up.

Halea could still sense an uncomfortable tension in the air as she followed Otsana back down the path. They spoke no more, and she dared to hope that perhaps she really wouldn't have to get into another fight; at least not that day.

* * *

Through the clouds, Varg could see that the sun was rising higher than he'd have liked, but at last, he found the right path among the snowdrifts. He had hoped he could find some trace of a scent to follow, but there was nothing. There were barely even any small game animals at his current elevation. There were a few evergreens mixed in among other varieties of trees, but the higher he climbed, the sparser they became, and the trees that remained took on a strange distorted quality, their branches creaking in the wind. The occasional sound of snow clumps falling from branches with a plop as the late morning sun warmed the air was almost deafening on the still mountainside.

At last, Varg reached the plateau, and he was disappointed at what he found. A few stark petrified trees, little to no vegetation otherwise, and the low sound of the wind whistling past his ears; it was not what he expected.

"Is there anyone here?" he called, his voice echoing in the wind. "I am Varg, King of the lycans, son of former Wolf King Bledig and Supreme Wolfmother Valria of the western lands."

Nothing.

" _Ethelwolf must have been wrong about the feather; there's no one here. It's been centuries since he's been seen; perhaps he's dead_ ," he thought ruefully.

One of the dried tree branches groaned above, and Varg looked up to behold a strange shadow perched on high. He stepped back slowly as the blackness moved ever so slightly.

Oil black wings covered in dust and cobwebs wrapped like a cocoon around something nesting within the branches. Slowly the wings unfurled with an audible groaning of bone and stiff ligament. Beneath the black feathers, a form appeared huddled in upon itself as if sleeping. Slowly the figure raised its head revealing unruly hair that was as black as its feathers and a pointed face with a deathly gray pallor. Varg watched as it slowly opened its large, dark reflective eyes and he felt the hair rise along the back of his neck when the creature looked down on him. Its joints made sounds eerily similar to the petrified trees creaking in the wind as the figure began to rise on spindly limbs and Varg instinctively gripped the hilt of the Fang as the therian rose to its full height. Beneath billowing black robes, he could see a body far taller than average and as thin as a skeleton. Its long limbs were wrapped all over with what appeared to be black bandages from which clung cobwebs and the dangling threaded remains of the bones of small creatures and carved stone beads of gray. Belted from its unnaturally slim waist, hung a sword, its hilt glittered in the sun.

"Are you Corbin, the Swordmaster?" asked Varg in a firm voice.

The strange therian silently watched him from above then slowly lowered itself again. Its long spidery limbs folded just before there was a loud snap as its black wings unfurled and the creature glided down from the tree, its scent suddenly becoming noticeable.

Varg stood still as the black figure loomed before him, standing far taller than any therian he had ever seen. If he were in his wolf form, his hackles would most definitely be raised, and he did his best not to growl at the strange creature's approach, but he refused to be intimidated.

"I am the collector of souls and the keeper of the shadows, son of Morigan, the Great Crow, God of the underworld. I am Corbin."

"I'm here because..."

"Of the Fang," interrupted Corbin. "I know. A vision told me you would come. May I see it?"

Varg hesitated, and an disturbing smirk graced Corbin's face at the Wolf King's obvious discomfort.

"Do I unnerve you? I suppose I am quite unsettling to behold in this state."

Varg watched as slowly Corbin's unnaturally long limbs began to shorten. His strange face lost some of its pointedness, and his body settled into a somewhat fuller, though still thin, frame. When the transformation was complete, Corbin was a little shorter than Varg, and far more humanoid, except for the obvious protrusion of the massive black wings that folded over his back. His face was still pale, but no longer corpselike. The pupils of his eyes were still overly large, black, and reflective, but they appeared less menacing.

"May I see it?" Corbin repeated, his voice dry, but not unkind.

Varg still had his reservations about presenting his weapon to this strange therian, but he came all the way to the east to find the crow and to seek his aid, he could not back down now. He withdrew the Fang from its sheath and presented it horizontally between his two outstretched hands.

Corbin's black eyes glittered with delight, and an odd smile graced his thin lips.

"It's been many ages since I've seen the sword of the earthly realm. Radulf forged the sword and presented it as a gift to his firstborn son, the first lycan, and the first Wolf King," explained Corbin. Radulf was arguably the most powerful of the old wolf gods; known for his wisdom and might. There was also Leto; the wolf goddess of the hunt, fertility, and pack, as well as Lycaon; the wolf god of war, but also of protection, the great defender. There were lesser wolf gods as well, but it was the children of these gods who were the first lycans.

"There are not many holy weapons in this world," continued Corbin as he unsheathed his own sword. The blade was long but thin, the hilt intricate and ornate. Compared to the Fang, it looked rather frail, but Varg could sense something strange about the shining blade as Corbin twirled it in the air with the flourish of a skilled weapons master. "Abaddon; a blade of destruction. Don't let its looks deceive you. It is a sword of the underworld. Only a god can create such a weapon, and I am its keeper."

"I don't have a lot of time," grumbled Varg.

"What? You want to learn to fight with a sword in a day? An hour? It doesn't work that way. To be a true swordmaster takes years, decades, even ages, but I suppose you lycans don't make much use of weapons. You couldn't possibly understand the skill and discipline that are required to master such a weapon."

Corbin's criticism was met with a rumbling growl as Varg bared his fangs. "Why did you call me here if you can't help me? I don't have years! The dragon slaughters his own followers as we speak. When at last his thirst for blood is quenched, he will turn his eyes on my mate. There is no one else who can oppose him; unless you'd like to try."

"Me? Ha!" mocked Corbin. "You wolves know very well I rarely concern myself with the living unless it's to pass on the messages of the gods. I am the only one who treads between this world and the next, but that does give me some advantage. My visions are never wrong. I saw the dragon and his intentions are clear. You stand between him and something he wants, and for the first time, the mighty Supreme Alpha knows what it is to fear. He defeated you, didn't he?"

Varg was perilously close to knocking the smirk off that bird's face. His eyes threatened to turn red as he clenched his fist around the hilt of the fang.

"Struck a nerve, didn't I? That's not an easy truth for an alpha to swallow, but swallow it you must. You can never defeat him the way you are now. Only the gods can help you; if they'll help you, and I'm not so sure you're worthy."

Varg sheathed his sword and took a deep inhalation. As much as he hated to admit it, Corbin wasn't wrong. The dragon was the only one ever to defeat him in battle, and as he was, he was not strong enough to protect his mate, his people, or even their world. But he didn't believe the gods, or even the strange crow, would have brought him all this way just to tell him there was no hope. This was a test, and he knew if he didn't control himself, he would fail.

It was not in Varg's nature to be submissive, ever, but against the roaring protest of his inner wolf, he ever so slightly bowed his head.

"I am not strong enough to defeat this dragon. I must find a way to harness the power of the Fang, for my people, my mate, for everyone. I will pay any price, anything you ask, name it."

Corbin's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he watched the mighty King of Wolves grow humble before him. For a moment he had wondered what the gods even saw in this one, but, once again, they had proven right in their infinite wisdom.

"Good, your willingness to set aside your own anger and ego to ensure the survival of others proves to me that you are worthy to carry that sword of the earthly realm. It was a sword given to protect, not to avenge. It is not a weapon for personal conquest. If you are to learn the ways of the Fang, you must set aside all personal desires and fight only for those whom you wish to protect. You can do this for no other reason. The grudge you hold against the descendant of Tiamet must not get in the way."

That was easier said than done. Varg had a hard time imagining how he could not hate the dragon on a personal level. He was a threat to his mate, and that was a slight that no alpha could stand, but he could tell the gods were working mysteriously through this crow. It was also not so hard for him to put the lives of others before his own. Protecting others came naturally to him.

"I'll gladly bear this burden," he declared.

Corbin surprised Varg with a jovial laugh. "You think you're in this fight alone, don't you? Well, you'll learn otherwise, but that's not my lesson to teach. You're here because you think I can help you, but it's the gods you must impress, and they are not impressed...yet. How quickly you earn the knowledge you seek is entirely up to you, but I will show you the path. First, to put your mind at ease, your mate is in good hands, for now. The sun is fading in the west, and it's time for me to carry out my duties. Return tomorrow at dawn, but come alone. If you can prove to me that you're worthy to stand before the gods, then I will take you to them."

Varg didn't want to wait, but he didn't dare argue. He had been given a ray of hope, and he would not waste it.

* * *

The sun was setting, and Mama Dragon strained her eyes looking into the west. The longing to return to the citadel was ever pulling at the back of her mind. The lycan warriors had picked up the scent of demons earlier that day, and she had seen their tracks, but they had eluded her. They were avoiding the barrier traps as if they knew where they were. She had never experienced such behavior from the servants of Chaos before. Only one small tear had opened since she began her patrol of the western lycan territory and it was easily sealed. The lycan warriors assigned to accompany her in her task were on constant high-alert and would howl if they needed her as they guarded the parameter of their territory. It was a strange way to be summoned, but she was grateful for their aid, so she did her best to listen for sounds on the wind. Instead of the howl of a wolf, above, a falcon cried out. She could tell by his tone that he was happy and she knew that Samesa would not be far behind him.

She raised her gloved hand as Rufus circled down to land gracefully with excited squawks and head bobs. Before long, Samesa appeared through the trees. Rufus has seen her from above on her return from the south and had guided her to Mama Dragon.

With her free arm, Mama Dragon embraced her fellow priestess, who returned her warm greeting.

"I secured the tear and eliminated a few demon stragglers, mostly on my own. The lycans from the south are even more standoffish than these, but I guess I'm glad for that. They didn't get in the way at least. Though, I met their new leader," reported Samesa.

Rufus flapped his wings and took to the sky as the priestesses conversed.

Halea had mentioned that the southern lycan pack would be in need of a new alpha after she had slain the one who attacked her. Mama Dragon had been uncomfortable with the idea of sending one of her fellow priestesses into a potentially hostile territory that was about to undergo a major power shift. She and Rufus had been worrying for Samesa since she left and anxiously awaited her return.

"Did he threaten you?"

"No. He was...kind of strange, for a lycan. I think. Intense, but, not overtly threatening. He was just checking to make sure that I was fulfilling my duties. I told him that I was, and he seemed pleased that I had sealed the tear. He said "thank you," and then, "get out." I honestly wasn't about to argue. He said they'd hunt any demon stragglers and that they didn't need me anymore, and I was more than ready to leave by that point."

"Did he say anything else?"

"He said he would come to present himself before the king upon his return, and that his name was Raoul."

Mama Dragon chewed her lip in contemplation. She hoped this new alpha wasn't going to be a threat to Halea like the last one, but she took some comfort in knowing that despite the description of his cold behavior, he had been courteous enough to thank Samesa for her service. She wondered if he had actually meant it, but she hadn't been there to gauge the interaction for herself.

Rufus reappeared from above and began to circle down again, this time targeting Samesa as his perch. Samesa looked up and noticed the falcon flying in towards her, and she instinctively raised her arm for him to land.

With an uncomfortable pinch, his sharp talons pricked her bare skin, but Samesa's face lit up with a beautiful smile as she noticed the gift the falcon carried in his beak. She held out her other hand and the bird dropped a beautiful stone into her palm. One side was dull and russet, but upon turning the stone over, the other side glittered with bright purple crystal deposits.

"Aww, look how pretty. Thank you, Rufus!" she cried in delight as she tucked the stone into her travel bag and petted the falcon's head in appreciation. He cackled in delight at her attention and flapped his wings with joy, while Mama Dragon narrowed her eyes. This wasn't the first gift he had given her; Samesa had quite the collection of shiny objects in her bag by now.

Mama Dragon gave the falcon a swift poke to its chest with her index finger that sent him flying off with a squawk. She had warned him before.

"At least you're unharmed. I'll report this to Halea upon her return. Rufus returned from the north yesterday. No new priestesses have been slain. I think the scent masking potion is working, but there are still tears opening. They'll need help."

"I haven't had to use any myself yet, but I guess it's time to try it out. I wish I could stay with you a little longer, but we promised their Wolf King that only one of us would hang around these parts while they were gone and I don't want to risk angering them by staying longer than I'm welcome. Give my love to Halea when you see her."

"I will. Stay safe."

"Call for me if you need me, I'm sure Rufus will find me wherever I go."

With that, Mama Dragon hugged Samesa goodbye, and she watched tearfully as the young priestess vanished into the forest.

" _Please watch over her, Tiamet. Watch over them all_ ," she prayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: First off, I have to apologize to you guys. This is the first draft of book two and it occurred to me that there might be some nasty plot holes if I didn't straighten a few things out. I tried fixing those plot holes in this chapter, but it was too little too late and I realized I had to go all the way back to chapter one to make the corrections. So, I've added several important sentences and a small paragraph to chapter one to fix said plot holes, and also to hint at something that will come up later in this book, and be very important for book 3. Nothing removed, just a bit added. You don't necessarily have to go and re-read chapter 1 (which is still a super short chapter), but you can if you want to try and guess what those changes might have been. I hate making major or obvious adjustments of more than just typos and spelling mistakes after I've already given you guys the chapters to read (hence why I try to work as far ahead as possible),but it's; "fix it now or never," cause I can't let such errors slide when I go to publish this.
> 
> Enough of that rambling. What did you guys think of this chapter? Lord Anshar is up to something - uh oh! That can't be good. Is Otsana sizing up her opponent, or is there more going on? What did you guys think of the swordmaster? Was he creepy? God, I hope so. And if Abaddon is the sword of the underworld, and the Fang is the sword of the earth...then I wonder who has the sword of heaven? Hmmm? Whoever could it be? And it looks like Rufus is a naughty bird. You know what we haven't had in a while and are damn well overdue for? A sex scene! That's right, next chapter bring on the fucking!
> 
> As always, thank you guys sooooo much for being my amazing readers. If you've enjoyed this story so far please leave me comments/feedback. Please. Please. Please.
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed Torn Apart, I am currently participating in The Kindle Book Review's Reader's Choice Awards for 2018. If you have a little bit of time can you please [Vote for Torn Apart](https://www.thekindlebookreview.net/vote-sci-fi-fantasy-2018/). By voting, you'll have a chance to win a Kindle Fire, 25 dollar Amazon gift card, and a mug. It should only take a minute of your time and I would be eternally grateful!


	19. Strange Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Bow, chicca bow bow...that's my attempt at porno music btw. You know what that means? Yep, this is a sexy chapter. You're welcome! ~_^

When Halea walked into the alpha's fire pit, many looked up in awkward silence, but she held her head high and sat in the same seat that she and Varg had shared the night before.

" _Don't pay attention to them. Think about something else_ ," she chanted in her mind as she did her best to maintain her composure. She had spent the past few hours psyching herself up for this moment. She needed to prove to Varg that she was not afraid, that she could stand proud against his people without his help, that no one would ever again intimidate her or make her feel unwelcome among her new people. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate that Varg was trying to make her comfortable, but his constant protection came at the price of her respect as a Wolfmother. She needed to assert herself.

The slightest bodily change could give her away; if her heart beat too fast, if she smelled too strongly of anxiety, if her eyes refused to meet those who challenged her, they would know.

"Welcome, Wolfmother," greeted Ethelwolf. "We were just about to start."

Halea thanked him, refusing to lower her eyes. From her peripheral vision, she could see Úlfa nestled against his side, her sharp eyes shining in the firelight, the corners of her lips slowly rising.

The eastern lycans were more tolerant of the cold than their western counterparts and would continue to use their outdoor fire pits as long as there wasn't any heavy snowfall. Eventually, in later winter, when the blizzards would bury their communal areas under thick piles of snow, they would have no choice but to share meals together within the shelter of their massive mountain caves.

A large platter of blood dripping meat was brought to the pit. The highest ranking lycan, which was usually Varg, was expected to cut and serve the meat, but without Varg there, Halea was Supreme Alpha.

There was a tense moment as she watched the lycan carrying the platter dart his eyes between herself and Ethelwolf. It would be a slight against her if he didn't offer her the platter, one that she would be forced to redress or she would lose face. This one small act of authority had made her the most nervous when she decided that she would appear at the pit, and now the moment had come.

With a subtle nod and glance from Úlfa, the meat bearer turned and presented Halea with the platter, bowing his head in proper respect.

Halea accepted the platter of mountain goat, and Ethelwolf passed her a sharp cutting knife. Halea served everyone in the alpha's pit before the platter was removed and another lycan brought her a plate of food that was meant to accommodate her human palette. She was grateful that they remembered she couldn't just eat raw meat from when she dined with them the previous night. She propped her own share of goat into the fire on a skewer and occupied herself with the rest of the food in her plate. There were biscuits made of grains, but with sweet dried fruits baked inside, and a steaming mash made of yam. In the spring and summer, there was fresher produce to be had, but the meal was delicious regardless, and she was almost sorry that lycans didn't enjoy such food as much as she did. Except for meat, they seemed skilled at cooking, and she was usually more than pleased with whatever they made, more so because the food was almost always exclusively made just for her. At first, it made her uncomfortable that Varg's pack had to go out of their way to appease her human dietary needs. She had offered to cook for herself, but even though they didn't enjoy eating such food themselves, some lycans took great pride in being given the task of preparing meals that would appease their Wolfmother, strange though she was. Recalling the small kind acts of the western pack suddenly warmed her heart.

It occurred to her that she was missing the western pack. She missed chatting with Daciana and Ulrica. She even missed Batsuba and her snide remarks and cranky disposition, and she wondered how long it would be before she would see them all again.

She had sensed a strange mixture of emotions from Varg earlier that day, and she wondered if he had found the swordmaster. She missed his presence beside her, but she knew he was returning; she just couldn't tell how long it would take him to arrive. Part of her had hoped he'd return before the evening meal, but another part of her wanted to prove a point.

Otsana was not at the alpha's pit, but Halea was confident she was taking her evening meal around a different fire. She was relieved to not have to put up with the contentious she-wolf; the evening was already stressful enough.

She still had a hard time figuring out what was going on. Úlfa knew she and her daughter despised each other. What purpose would she have for risking Varg's wrath, especially so soon after Halea had already proven herself against Rafe? Halea considered telling Varg what happened upon his return, but she decided against it. She needed to show him that no matter what happened, she could fight her own battles. If Úlfa and Otsana were plotting something against her, she would take care of it herself.

Ethelwolf would occasionally make polite conversation, or prod Halea with simple questions in an attempt to not exclude her from their discussions.

"We've hunted several demons over the past few weeks. Their numbers are growing, but we've eliminated them before they could open any tears. Does abandoning your faith mean the Dragon Goddess is no longer with you?"

Ethelwolf had heard that Halea had given up her duties as a priestess to choose a life with Varg, but he had little understanding of what it meant to be a priestess. He had some base knowledge of the Dragon Goddess, as he had lived for so many years, but like most lycans, he primarily only knew of the wolf gods.

"I haven't abandoned my faith, only my calling. I was born blessed. Tiamet does not abandon her chosen children, but by breaking my oath, I can no longer serve her. Not officially anyway. I have slain one demon and sealed a tear since everything has begun again. I hope she's not too angry with me, but somewhere deep inside, I feel like she approves. There's a call all the blessed servants feel; a call to fight against the Chaos. It never goes away, even if we abandon our oath. I can't get it out of my system, even though my place is here now."

"Tomorrow we're hunting again. Their scent and tracks were discovered along the north-eastern pass. Would you care to join us? Priestess or no, if you still possess the power of the Dragon's touch; such ability would be of great help to us."

Halea worried that Varg would disapprove of her traveling too far from the den, but then again, she'd be with a pack of their best warriors for such an expedition, and she was dying for any chance to feel useful. "If there's anything I can do to be of assistance, I'd be happy to help, and besides, it's not like I have much else to do," she explained.

As the evening wore on, gradually, the lycans surrounding the alpha's pit began to depart. Halea was relieved the night had gone as smoothly as it did, and she was particularly grateful to Ethelwolf for once again giving her a chance. But her relief was short-lived as she looked up from the flames to notice Úlfa's dark eyes fixed upon her. Ethelwolf had gone on without his mate, and Halea quickly raised her eyes to meet her stare.

"Otsana will be attending the hunt tomorrow as well."

Halea did her best to maintain her composure at this statement.

"Look over there," Úlfa nodded to a fire pit off to the side.

Halea wasn't sure what she was supposed to be looking at. At first, she thought Otsana would be glaring back at her, but it appeared to only be a small group of the same warriors that greeted Varg upon their arrival.

"Do you see that big one?"

Halea looked again and recognized the lycan named Fenris, the one who had tried to gather a hunting party in celebration of Varg's arrival.

Úlfa smiled when Halea turned to her with questioning eyes.

"He thinks quite a bit of himself. He has some good alpha qualities in him, but not enough. He's strong though, dangerously strong, one of our best warriors, perhaps the best after Erish."

"Erish?"

"My beloved," she explained, and Halea nodded. It was strange to hear Ethelwolf being referred to by such a term of endearment, but she supposed if anyone had that liberty it would be his mate.

"Tell me, what do you think of him?"

"You know I'm mated, right?" replied Halea as she had no idea what the eastern Wolfmother was trying to get at.

To her surprise, Úlfa burst into laughter. The first laughter she had heard from the she-wolf since she arrived, and for once her smile didn't look so frightening.

"I meant, do you think he has what it takes? You've stood in the presence of alphas, and Varg is your mate, so you know the power of their will. Did you sense it when you first saw him?"

Halea hesitated; she didn't know Fenris well enough to make such a judgment call.

"Tomorrow you will see for yourself. I think it should be obvious, even to a human."

Halea wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but before she could ask, the she-wolf turned and left her with many unanswered questions and a feeling of unease.

Halea followed the path back to the king's cave, but she took her time as she went, occasionally glancing up at the sky as the clouds began to blot out the stars. Another snowfall was coming, and she dreaded being all alone in that big cave. She was still worried about the priestesses, about the future, and about Varg. What if the Swordmaster couldn't help them? What if they came all this way for nothing?

At least when Varg was with her, there was comfort in his presence, without him she could only look forward to tossing and turning all night as her anxieties slowly ate away at her.

As Halea was approaching the cave, she saw someone moving quickly towards her through the shadows. She tensed up for only a moment before she realized who it was and that he was very happy to see her.

"There you are! I just got back. I went straight to the king's cave. I thought you'd be in bed by now," exclaimed Varg as he swept her into his arms, nearly crushing her in his embrace. She buried her face in the winter pelt he was wearing and sighed in relief at his return.

"I didn't want to sleep without you. Not tonight."

Varg had sensed her gloomy emotions just before her scent reached him. He knew she had endured a stressful day, and he longed to ask her about it, but the night was growing cold, and her hands felt like ice.

They returned to the cave, where Varg quickly started a fire while he described his encounter with the Swordmaster.

"You have to prove your worth to the gods, but how?" asked Halea.

"The 'how' is the challenge, I'm sure. I don't know what he has planned for me tomorrow, but I'll find out soon enough. The important thing is, at least he didn't tell me to piss off; so there's hope. If there's a way to prove my worth, then I'll find that way."

She could tell they weren't just empty words, he felt it inside as well, that determined sense of confidence that never ceased to amaze her.

"I know you will. You can do anything," she encouraged with a smile.

He scooped her up and carried her to their bed where he helped her out of her boots before he began to pull off his armor and winter pelts. Halea couldn't help letting her eyes wander as he undressed.

His entire body was hard, well-defined muscles traveling all the way down where an abdominal V was visible just visible above his leather trousers. His skin, much more deeply tanned than hers, was covered in scars from the many battles he'd survived. His arms were strong and powerful, and when she was within them, she felt safe and at home. His brilliant blue eyes seemed to shine in the low firelight as he noticed her observing him, and the way her eyes dilated as she devoured him with her gaze.

"Checking me out, I see."

He smiled hungrily as her face grew bright red and she quickly turned her eyes to some far corner of the room in a sad attempt to hide her embarrassment.

He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself above her, his arms resting on either side of her head.

"Don't turn away."

"You don't have to be such a tease!" she said as she forced herself to meet his piercing eyes.

"And you don't have to be embarrassed. I belong to you, you know? I want you to look at me that way. Whatever you want of me is yours. Anything," he breathed in a husky voice as he softly pressed his lips to hers.

She was instantly melting. A fluttering like wings started in her heart and spread to her stomach, and lower, to her core, as he gently began to prod into her mouth with his tongue. The bond they shared nearly melded them into one mind, one soul, and the furious beating of his heart against her was as real as if it beat within her own breast.

The kiss grew hungrier, deeper, and it became nearly impossible to keep from squirming beneath him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth with both need and promise. It seemed like forever since they last made love. He had been trying to spare her when she was still recovering from her injuries, which hadn't been easy as towards the end, unbeknownst to her, her time of ovulation had already come and gone. As soon as the last of her bones had healed, she had resumed painting her contraceptive run in case such an opportunity would arise.

She could already feel his engorged length digging into her, and she cursed that there was still clothing between them. One of her hands trailed from the base of his neck, up into his thick wild hair that hung down towards her like a soft brown curtain. Her other hand clung desperately to his bicep as if losing her grip would cause her to fall off the edge of the world.

He began pulling open her robe as his lips traveled down her jaw and along her throat, nipping and sucking where her pulse beat fast beneath his lips. She let out a throaty moan of encouragement as his warm hands explored her soft skin beneath her clothes and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer.

"My, aren't you eager," he whispered hotly into her ear.

"What did I tell you about teasing me, you mangy wolf?"

She knew just how to give him a taste of his own medicine as her lips latched onto the side of one of his long pointed ears and she felt him take in a deep shuddering breath. Her hands slipped beneath the waistband of his pants and kneaded into the hard round muscle of his buttocks, causing him to growl against her, the vibration that rumbled through his chest only increasing her own excitement.

"Take them off, Varg," she purred, and he quickly pulled away to strip himself of the last of his clothing, while she also hastily freed herself from the rest of hers, leaving only her blue crystal pendant.

He moved in to regain the contact of her hot skin against his, but she squirmed away from him with a fiery look in her eyes.

"You said I could have anything I wanted," she teased as she climbed out of the bed and beckoned him to join her.

He got out of the bed and went to her without a moment of hesitation, capturing her in a firm embrace and smothering her in another hungry kiss that threatened to weaken her knees.

She pulled back from his needy kiss. Standing at his full height allowed her to just reach the base of his throat where she tortured the burning flesh with her lips.

She could hear him take a ragged breath as her blunt teeth slowly scraped along his skin, his hard body growing tense with anticipation against her. His inner beast was primal, violent, hungry, and she knew the wolf in him desired a mate that would answer the call of its basal instincts.

She gently nipped along his throat, causing him to emit a low growl of pleasure, his hands burying in her hair. His heart was thundering as her soft lips toyed with his flesh and sucked tantalizingly above his jugular. He nearly lost it as her fingernails raked down his chest, lower along his hard chiseled abdomen, reaching further until her smooth fingertips brushed along his eager length. His growl echoed throughout the cave as she firmly gripped his throbbing cock while biting down on the skin at the base of his throat.

"Halea," he breathed in a rumbling voice, far deeper than normal, and she knew his wolf was emerging. When she looked up the red was beginning to glow around the edges of his eyes, but she smiled seductively up at him as her hand stroked his hard shaft causing him to breathe heavily against her.

"Now look who's eager," she teased, causing him to growl in protest and throw back his head as her hand moved faster along his thick length. His skin felt remarkably soft, but the flesh beneath was unbelievably hard as it throbbed in her fist. Her lips once again found his throat, and it was nearly enough to make him lose his mind. She worked her way down his body, nipping and teasing his fevered skin along the way, a sensation that was probably no more than a pinch, but it incited a powerful response in his inner beast.

He sharply inhaled through his clenched teeth as her soft lips seized the head of his throbbing member, and when her tongue began working along the length of his shaft, his vision almost left him as the inner animal began to take over. A soft vibration could be felt through his entire body as he growled deep within his chest as she continued to slowly tease his straining cock. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could and used both of her hands to massage the base of his shaft and balls, eliciting more growls of approval.

There was no control left, only instinct, need, hunger, and then sweet release that left him sweating and gasping for air. He looked down to see his mate wipe the corner of her mouth, her lips swollen and glistening, her eyes hazy with arousal. The animal wasn't ready to be put away yet, and he scooped her up and brought her back to their bed.

The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, and the effect was nearly intoxicating as he only wanted more; more of her touch, more of her heat, more of her taste. It was never enough. His fangs would skate along her flesh and occasionally stop to leave a small puncture that would elicit a sharp gasp followed by a low moan of approval. The marks were not deep, only breaking the skin ever so slightly to allow him just the smallest taste of her blood before they quickly healed up again. Perhaps some humans tasted bad, but not his Halea; her blood, her sweat, her arousal, were all enough to drive his beast wild with need. She cried out his name in bliss as he opened her thighs and began exploring her wet heat with his tongue, her hands reaching down to tangle in his hair. His claws began to sink into the flesh of her thighs as his grip grew tighter, but she loved the way he felt when he held her like that. She wanted his handprints on her skin; his bites, his shallow scratches. She wanted to be taken entirely, to surrender to his inhuman nature and abandon all sense and reason in the wake of the pleasure he gave her. His firm grip was the only thing to keep her from kicking and thrashing about wildly as he continued to lick, suck, and prod into her in ways that soon sent her over the edge.

"Varg," she cried out in a ragged breath as he body shuddered from the force of her release. There was barely a moment to recover before he mounted her and she could feel his hard length stretching the deepest depths inside of her.

Within their bond, no emotion was hidden, no desire a secret, and they knew the pleasure they gave to the other, the overflowing love and unbreakable devotion that left them both with no doubts, no reservations, only the freedom to become as one. Her new scars meant nothing to him, he could only see her with love and desire, the same way she saw him. They were complete with each other, two halves of a single whole that could never be broken apart. Nothing else existed or mattered beyond that one moment between them.

Varg's eyes were completely red as he pinned her down, his hands on her wrists, his fangs holding her throat, but not breaking beyond the shallowest surface of her skin. He moved inside of her with a steady but fast pace that left her gasping and panting and crying out for him. She was so wet, and the scent was pulling him closer to the edge. He released one of her writs so that he could roughly explore her body. With one hand free, her blunt nails raked across his back leaving the sweetest of burning sensations, her voice no longer capable of forming words. He could sense how close she was as her walls began tightening around his cock while he continued to thrust into her.

At last, she cried out, and he felt the delicious clench of her internal muscles that milked him until he snarled from the power of his release.

They lay in each other's arms, their hearts still beating fast and struggling to catch their breaths as suddenly the room felt stiflingly hot.

"Don't you have to leave again early in the morning?" she eventually asked as she felt herself drifting to sleep in his arms.

"Mmm hmm," he lazily replied.

"So much for getting any sleep," she teased in a tired voice.

"Worth it," he said with the faint trace of a smile as he nuzzled her hair before falling asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: -insert sexy saxophone music here- Well, I hope you guys enjoyed that. It's been a while since we had a lemon chapter, and I wanted to squeeze one in (ah, ha! Ya see what I did there?) before things start getting super intense. By next chapter, we'll be about 2/3 done with Blood Bound, and if you know my style from the first book, well, hold onto your butts.
> 
> Also, I'm afraid I have to apologize again. I had to go back to chapter 14 and add this paragraph to the part where Halea is giving the priestesses the knowledge of the scent masking potion.
> 
> With the weather turning cold, the ingredients would become harder to acquire. They would have to gather as many herbs as they could before the heavy snow came and dry them to make it through the long winter. The north and east were the coldest regions and usually received snow first, but the west would not be far behind. Only the south saw little, if any, snowfall during the year.
> 
> Yeah, as you can tell I had to fix the obvious plothole where they have to gather herbs to make the scent masking potion, but I've thoroughly established winter's coming, and plants kind of don't do so well in the snow. As far as Convergence geography goes the North is the coldest, and usually cold all year round, then the east, then the west, with the south being a much warmer territory. Batsuba is known to hoard dried herbs (which might be useful to the priestesses later) and additional herbs can be acquired from the southern territory so they're not completely screwed but I did have to clear that up or I wouldn't forgive myself.
> 
> This is why I try to work several chapters ahead at all times, but this is my first time writing a series and as the story progresses it might be increasingly common for me to have to make these post posted plot adjustments because there are sooooo many plot threads to weave together and plot holes I have to avoid while doing it all. The longer this story goes the harder it is to keep track of everything, but I'm doing my best. If any of you guys find any issues with the plot or continuity that you think I need to address please feel free to point it out, because, hey, I'm human. I miss things and I would much rather fix it now before I go to self-publish this.
> 
> Thank you so much to all my readers. If you enjoyed this chapter please let me know what you think!  
> \---  
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	20. Deceived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: WHAAAA? A chapter on Thursday? And quite a long one too. Well, I'm flying to Oregon, and I'll be gone until the 5th, so it's either give it to you a day early or 4 days late, and I usually prefer to be nice. Speaking of being nice; who wants more Lord Anshar and his dastardly doings?

Maven blinked as the dying embers crackled and popped, disturbing her from her troubled sleep. She was curled up in Lord Anshar's chair, which she had pulled before the fireplace in the room that had once been his study. An empty bottle of wine sat on the floor beside her next to a tipped glass and several scattered tombs, and a crumpled message from Gwen sent from the capital.

Priestess Gwen had successfully been able to fill in for Lord Anshar on the king's council, as well as make an official report on the return of tear and demon activity, but it was not enough. The nobles, the bureaucrats, even the king, were becoming impatient with the state of unrest caused by the never-ending encroachment of the Chaos Dimension. Demons were raiding farms and leveling villages to the ground, and tears were increasingly opening near populated areas.

How could they possibly explain that there were few Tiamet worshippers left and that those who were still alive had gone into hiding or else they would be killed by the very person meant to save them?

Kalee had come to the castle and made her swear an unbreakable oath of secrecy upon Tiamet's name before revealing that they had discovered a way to hide from Lord Anshar by disguising their scent. She hadn't been sober enough at the time to understand much of what the other priestess had been explaining, but she had been given written instructions for the preparation of this strange concoction. She was expected to pass the knowledge along to other priestesses, and priestesses only, and so she had hidden the instructions in one of the inside pockets of her robe. It seemed unlikely that any more priestesses would be returning to Antherose. They were all cowards. Sinners.

Why else would Tiamet have turned her back on her creations, the ones she had chosen and blessed? Why else would she have abandoned them in their time of need? Why else would _he_ have abandoned them?

If Lord Anshar was not killed within the Chaos, then he truly was a god, and they had doubted him. He had tested their faith, and they had failed. Perhaps they deserved to be punished.

She absently wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand as she gazed into the dying fire. It was then that she heard the sound of the study door being opened and closed again from behind her. Was it a cleric? She hadn't heard any footsteps which would usually echo down the hall.

"Don't disturb me now. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning," she grumbled as the slight sound trigged a pounding headache.

"This can't wait, Maven," she heard a voice reply, a deep voice that had once warmed her heart, but at that moment, only caused her blood to run cold within her veins.

Her heart was thundering within her chest as she leaped up from the chair and turned to look behind her. The only light in the study was from the dying fire, but by the door, she could distinguish a towering form concealed within the flickering shadows.

"Lord...Lord Anshar? Is it...is it you?" she stammered as her body began to tremble all over.

She watched as the imposing figure of Lord Anshar stepped further into the light, and her knees gave way beneath her.

"Lord Anshar, you've returned!" she cried, bowing her head low to the ground.

He took a few more steps towards the groveling High Priestess but stopped short when he saw the dark mirror sitting uncovered on the desk. He quickly reached over and dropped its protective cover over the sacred object.

"Forgive us, Lord Anshar. Have mercy!" Maven begged as she huddled face-down on the floor.

"Maven, don't be afraid. Look at me."

The High Priestess lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. She reeked of fear, but he recognized that the familiar look in her eyes was still there.

"I've found the way, Maven, but it won't be easy. Will you help me?"

Her heart nearly stopped at his words.

"You...you've found the way? Oh, Lord Anshar. I've always believed in you. I've never doubted you. I knew you would save us. I'll do anything. Anything, I swear it. I swear on Tiamet's name. I'll do anything for you."

"What has always been the price to banish the Chaos?"

He watched as her eyes unfocused and her brow furrowed as new tears trickled from her eyes.

She was silent for a long moment before finally replying in a low voice; "Life. The blood of the blessed."

"That has always been the answer, and nothing has changed Maven. The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds needs blood. It needs sacrifice. The chosen of Tiamet must give their lives to save our world. There is no other way."

"Another ritual?" she asked, not being sure what he meant.

"One life isn't enough. Don't you see, Maven? That's why it has always returned. It will take many priestesses' lives, but they're cowards. You've seen this. They hide from their destiny; the true calling of Tiamet. They don't want to save our world. They think they can save their own skins instead, but they are not true believers, not like you. I need your help. You haven't lost faith in me, have you?"

She did her best to stifle a sob of anguish. The priestesses were her people, her sisters in the faith, and she was one of them. She knew what it was to be afraid, to feel hopelessness, but perhaps that was what had led them astray. All priestesses accepted that their lives were dedicated to the Goddess, and to Lord Anshar, and if asked of them, they must die for their world. There was never anything pleasant about having to sacrifice the life of one of Tiamet's brave followers, but it was a necessity to ensure the survival of everyone in their world. It was for the greater good, and now Lord Anshar was asking for more.

"Is there no other way?"

"Believe me, Maven; I have spent ages trying to find a better way. I have regretted every life that I've cut down. Their blood that stains my hands will never wash away. Their eyes are always haunting me, but you know it had to be done. I have seen into the Chaos; we need so much more. The time for holding back is over, but I promise you if you place your trust in me; this will be the end. We can finally put an end to all of this."

She nodded her head in sad defeat. Sacrifice had always been the way. He was right.

"I've never lost faith. Not in you, Lord Anshar."

"You have always been a loyal servant of Tiamet. Your devotion has not gone unnoticed," he replied as he reached down and gently helped her to her feet. He could still feel her trembling beneath his hands, but the rapid beating of her heart stuttered at his words, and he knew that she would obey.

"What must I do?" she asked.

* * *

The glow of morning light was cresting above the western skyline. It snowed heavily in the night, but there were patches of clear sky between the occasional thick clouds.

Varg sniffed the wind as they stood at the eastern edge of the den. "I smell a storm coming. This is not ideal weather for you to be hunting demons," he argued.

Halea had not been able to avoid him asking what had set her emotions on edge the other day as they enjoyed a quick breakfast together before she walked with him to the den outskirts.

"You left me alone with a pack of cranky wolves I barely know. Of course, I'd be on edge," she had replied, which wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. She didn't want to tell him about Úlfa and Otsana's strange behavior. He would needlessly worry, and she was not afraid of those bitches. Varg's overprotective nature still took over when she explained that she had offered to help with a demon hunt.

"You are NOT a priestess."

"I am NOT helpless. They need me. What if someone gets hurt with a dark weapon? What if there's an open tear that needs to be sealed? And exactly what else am I supposed to do all day while you leave me here to go play swords with some creepy bird?"

He growled low under his breath as he frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose. He could sense just how much she had dug in her heels. He had certainly mated a stubborn one.

"I promised you I wouldn't go anywhere alone. I'm going to be with a whole pack of their best warriors. I've hunted demons in the winter before. They're sloppy; they leave tracks. It's actually one of the easiest times to hunt them; well, for a human. Though, I usually don't hunt them if I know a storm is coming. Hopefully, it'll hold off until after the hunt."

"You didn't bring your spear."

"I don't need it. I can fight them barehanded, and I have the knife you gave me, and a whole pack of wolves. Don't you trust me?"

"That's not it!" he quickly defended.

"Varg...do you remember when we were kids?"

He regarded her silently as she fiddled with the hem of her white winter cloak, her eyes seeing beyond him into some moment long since past.

"I know the alpha in you demands that you protect me, but I'm not helpless, and you know I never have been. You want to carry the weight of all these problems by yourself, but you're wrong. I want...I want you to depend on me...to believe in me."

"Halea, I do..."

"Then let me help you!" she snapped. "This isn't _just_ your fight. This is _our_ fight. When we were children...we were a team. Do you remember the day that demon attacked us?"

He silently nodded his head. He had never forgotten the day when a lone demon had charged through the trees. He had pushed Halea out of harm's way, and the beast had attacked him instead, but as a scrawny child, there was little he could do to hold the creature off. It was Halea who had attacked the demon with her bo staff. One of them alone could have never stood a change against such a creature, but by working together, they defeated the demon and saved each other's lives.

"We fought together. Don't you remember? We saved each other. I know you love me, and as your mate, you want to shelter me, and it's not that I don't appreciate that, but, I need you to believe in me. I _am_ strong enough."

He sighed, and she could see the muscles around his jaw tightening. "There was a time when I thought you were dead and gone, and it nearly destroyed me, and then when Rafe nearly killed you; I could feel you slipping away. I nearly slaughtered one of my best friends in rage because I couldn't handle that I wasn't the one there to protect you. Halea, I'm so afraid that I could lose you," he confessed as he wrapped his arms around her. The look in his eyes was so intense it nearly broke her heart because she understood.

"But it's the same for me. Varg, no matter what happens; I just want to fight by your side. If we're going to make it through this crisis, we need to do it together."

She could feel the conflict within him. His rational self was battling against his inner wolf, the primal instincts that struggled for dominance; the ability to control. She was asking him to relinquish some of that control, to accept the help that he was too stubborn, or too proud to take. She was asking him to defy his alpha nature.

"You may join the demon hunt. I do trust you, and I know that you're strong. That's one of the things I've always loved most about you, but that doesn't mean that I can ever stop being afraid for you. Protecting you is the most important thing to me," he said as he gently stroked the side of her face. "Forgive me, but I don't know how to let that go."

He could tell she was still disappointed when he finally left her that morning. He knew everything she said was the truth, but he couldn't ignore the way his instincts clawed at him from the inside. He just needed to be stronger. If he were only strong enough, he could protect her on his own.

* * *

With a heavy heart, Halea walked through the den; it was a little less unnerving on this day. It appeared that the lycans had gone from gawking to ignoring, which was honestly preferable. She took this opportunity to casually observe them as she passed by. While it was a different pack, it appeared that the eastern wolves lived no differently than the western wolves. She could see cubs playing in the snow, some of them in their humanoid forms, some in their wolf forms. Families gathered for breakfast around the fire pits on the shelves above, and she could hear idle gossip about hunting, crafts, child-rearing, and the occasionally uncomfortable mutterings about demons. One particularly large lycan in wolf-form appeared to be sunning itself on some river rocks, occasionally cracking one eye open to watch the cubs, possibly making sure they didn't accidentally fall or knock each other into the freezing water.

Halea was crossing the bridge past the alpha's tree-dwelling on her way to meet with the hunters when she heard Úlfa calling her. She tried her best not to tense up as the eastern Wolfmother approached her on the bridge with a greeting.

"Halea, good morning. I'm so glad I caught you before you set out for the day. Has Varg already left?"

"Yes," she replied; and she hoped the she-wolf was only inquiring out of curiosity and not something more sinister. Her words were pleasant enough, but there was still something reserved about the female alpha that set her nerves on edge.

"Here," said the she-wolf as she handed Halea an object that had been tucked into her furs.

Halea looked down in surprise as she received a beautiful pair of soft white leather gloves, and she wondered if they were from the same white leather she had seen Úlfa crafting the day before.

"Humans are weak creatures, or so I hear. You've looked half-frozen ever since you got here and I thought you could make use of them."

Though she felt stunned and unsure, Halea managed to find her voice.

"They're beautiful. Thank you."

"When you go out today, remember what I said."

Halea hadn't forgotten their fireside conversation from the previous night, and she nodded her head.

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Good," replied Úlfa who smiled in a way that made her fangs shine in the morning sun.

With a slight nod of farewell, Halea turned and left the eastern Wolfmother. She looked down at the gloves still in her hand and tried to make sense of what had just happened. It was a very considerate gift; perhaps she was wrong about Úlfa. She slipped her hands into the gloves which were soft and warm, and it did feel nice to have some small relief from the cold.

The pack of warriors was still assembling when she arrived.

Ethelwolf greeted her with his usual polite formality and asked in a somewhat reserved manner if she would like to orchestrate the hunt. She was sure it pained him to ask a human to lead, but it was her right of rank as Supreme Wolfmother. While she wasn't much skilled at hunting big-game animals, she was an expert when it came to demons, and she was not about to back down from her proper alpha position and lose face. Luckily, she had hunted demons alongside lycans in the past, and she was well aware of their strengths and capabilities, and she had every intention of utilizing their skills.

She swiftly accepted his offer to lead the hunt, and she tried not to frown when she watched him narrow his eyes in irritable resignation.

" _Hey, you asked!_ " she thought bitterly but did her best to appear unperturbed.

She noticed Fenris among their group, standing tall and imposing. Did he have the will of an alpha?

" _Why does that matter?_ " she wondered.

A few more lycans arrived, including Otsana, who appeared particularly aggrieved to be joining them, judging by the sour look on her face.

Ethelwolf gave his daughter a scrutinizing glance before asking; "And what made you decide to join us today?"

"Mother."

"Ah," he acknowledged with a quirky smile that surprisingly softened his usually harsh alpha exterior.

Halea tried not to appear to be listening to their exchange, but it was hard to ignore, and she suddenly felt herself struggling to fight back the anxiety that threatened to blow her appearance of authority. Úlfa had said Otsana would be on the hunt, but why would she want her daughter to join them if she didn't want to be there? Before she could contemplate on the matter further, she noticed Fenris observing Otsana from where he stood at the edge of the group, and the look in his eyes was not a look of fondness.

"We're ready if you are, Wolfmother," confirmed Ethelwolf when they had about two-dozen lycans.

"If you lead us to the north-eastern pass, we'll begin tracking them from there," she replied.

The group set out at high speed, but Halea had no trouble keeping up with them. Several of the lycans had shifted into their wolf forms, including Ethelwolf, who appeared as a massive shaggy gray wolf. At the front of the pack, and nearly running beside Ethelwolf, was Fenris, still in his humanoid form. She glanced back and noticed Otsana trailing the rear, but something felt off as if they weren't the only ones hunting.

It took them several hours before finally reaching the pass, where the pack stopped and began inspecting the area, looking to pick up any signs that remained from when the demons were last detected. The snow had long since buried any tracks, but the lycans picked up the stench of demon, and blood, fresh blood. Halea noticed the red spots in the snow as well as what might have been the depression of something large being dragged through the trees towards the northern end of the pass.

"They're around here. Not far. What did they kill?" Halea asked, knowing the lycans would be able to identify the other scent.

"Muskox, maybe a few hours ago," offered Fenris with a low growl. Demons were not only a threat to their own lives but the lives of the animals they depended on for their food. Even one demon could devastatingly disrupt the natural migratory paths of the herd animals.

"There's another scent trail heading due east from here, this one is far more recent," added Otsana.

"Then we'll split up into two groups for now, and if there are any more trail divergences, we'll break into pairs," said Halea.

Ethelwolf shifted back into his humanoid form, his eyes scanning the members of the pack before he began dividing them into two groups. He would lead the north-bound group and Halea would lead the group that followed the eastern scent trail.

"Fenris, you go with Wolfmother Halea's pack. Otsana, you'll come with me."

"Father, if you will allow, I would like to be in the other group," Otsana quickly requested.

Ethelwolf regarded her with a passing moment of curiosity but said nothing as he nodded, granting his permission before the two groups split up.

Halea had a bad feeling about Otsana's strange request. Why would she want to be in her group? Her sense of unease increased as she noticed the snowfall was getting heavier.

" _Damn it!_ " she thought. Hunting demons in the snow was easy; hunting them in a storm was dangerous. When she was a priestess working alone, in such conditions, she would give up until the rough weather passed, but she couldn't back out now. She would have to rely almost entirely on the sense of smell of the lycans.

Thankfully, Fenris seemed to have no qualms about assuming the lead as he followed the scent. She knew it wasn't good to let anyone else lead besides her, but she simply didn't have their sense of smell. Her brow furrowed in frustration to be at such a disadvantage. This would cost her.

Without protest, everyone fell in behind him and began running through the woods.

" _He was pretty confident to take charge like that, maybe that's what she meant_ ," she thought as she watched Fenris running at the head of the group.

There were other signs that they were getting close to something; more blood, claw marks rent into the bark of a tree, tufts of fur, torn flesh from a bear, and eventually a mangled carcass.

"Just a common bear," offered one of the female lycans.

Halea looked back at her hunting companions to notice Fenris and Otsana standing farther out among the thick trees. She couldn't make out what they were saying, as their voices were low, but they appeared to be having a heated argument, and occasionally Otsana would cast her eyes in Halea's direction. When the she-wolf noticed that Halea was watching them, her face grew menacing, and she quickly turned her back so the human woman could no longer see her.

"Are you okay?" asked one of the male hunters, who noticed her face growing pale, and picking up on the scent of her sudden anxiety.

"We have to keep hunting," she replied, ignoring the question.

Just as they began to move, Otsana and Fenris returned and stopped them.

"We're getting close. We should mask our scent before they detect us," spoke Otsana who pulled a small flask from her furs.

Halea watched all the lycans took out small flasks of scent masking potion, and she felt a nervous tremor pass through her.

She did not bring any potion with her.

Even when she was a priestess, though it may have been useful, she learned not to depend on the concoction. The ingredients would become harder, if not impossible to find in the later winter months, and also could be scarce depending on location. A good priestess had to know how to hunt demons without such aids.

"What's the matter? Didn't you remember to bring some scent masking potion with you?" asked Otsana in a snide tone.

"I don't usually use it when hunting demons," she dryly replied.

"Perhaps you should stay back then. With that human stink, you're a moving target. It'd be such a shame if anything happened to our Wolfmother," she wickedly laughed as she turned and began following the demon scent further into the woods. Soon the others were following her, including Fenris who looked extremely agitated to no longer be in the lead.

Halea placed one foot ahead of her in the deep snow before her heart took off racing as the severity of Otsana's words caused her to halt.

" _Of course_."

This was it! This was their plan all along; to separate her from Ethelwolf, who probably didn't know what his mate and daughter were plotting. This was why Úlfa sent Otsana on this hunting mission; this was why she didn't bother to warn her that she should bring a potion.

" _I bet she gave me these gloves just lure me into a false sense of security_ ," Halea thought bitterly.

They had dragged her out, far from the den, in the middle of a storm, to turn on her. They knew Halea was too strong for any one lycan to have a chance against her, but a small pack of their best warriors could easily overpower her.

" _I'll bet that's what they were arguing about_ ," she thought as she recalled the way Otsana had regarded her when she got caught watching the disagreement between her and Fenris. Fenris was probably in on it now. Maybe he was afraid of getting caught, or of defying the chain of command, but it could be a safe plan. With their scents masked they could all turn on her, kill her, blame demons for her demise, and possibly get away with it.

This was all planned. If she continued to follow, eventually they would make their move.

Anger and betrayal burned inside her, and somewhere across the bond, Varg was going from worry to panic, but she did her best to ignore his flurry of emotions. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She had to think.

She was not going to let those bastards get her.

She could see the lycans fading in the distance as soon the storm grew into a blizzard.

Now was her chance.

She quickly ran into the west. Even with their powerful sense of smell, the lycans would have a nearly impossible time picking up her scent as long as she remained downwind. The heavy blizzard was swiftly covering any tracks she left behind, and her white cloak was perfect camouflage as she moved swiftly through the trees.

Occasionally she would stop and double back to stagger her path through the snow in case the blizzard wasn't entirely enough to cover all the signs of her movement.

She froze when she thought she heard a howl. Perhaps it was just the howl of the storm? Perhaps they were looking for her? They had to have noticed she was no longer with them. It was getting harder to move in the thick snowdrifts, but she struggled along as quickly as she could.

Far in the distance, she heard another howl; closer this time, much closer.

She ducked into a snow drift and threw her cloak around her, and it wasn't long before she heard the huffing breath of a lycan in its wolf form, but she didn't dare move. She prayed to Tiamet that the raging winds of the blizzard would drown out the pounding of her heart.

To her relief, the wolf moved on.

After another moment she peered out from beneath her cloak to see that she was once again alone, but she had to move quickly, the wind felt as if it was slowly changing direction.

She raced further into the woods, nearly losing her balance as she struggled for footing in the thick snow and she cursed that she didn't have her spear.

Varg was nearly inconsolably across the bond, but she sensed something else, he was in pain, and something was restraining him. She could feel his desperation to go to her, as well as frustration, and a sense of hopelessness and unparalleled fear on her behalf.

She didn't have time to try and figure out what was holding him back. He had no chance of reaching her in time anyway. She was, once again, all on her own.

There was another sound on the wind, something utterly unexpected, something that could not be confused with the howl of a wolf, or the howl of a storm.

It was crying.

At first, she thought she imagined it, but as she continued through the snow, she knew without a doubt, she could hear the pathetic cries of a child.

"Help. Someone help me! Please, is anyone out there?" cried a small voice in the wind.

Halea raced towards the sound until she saw a small form huddled in a dirty cloak in the snow.

The figure looked up, and Halea caught the sight of a frightened and pale-faced little girl, maybe five years of age. Frozen tears clung to her frostbitten cheeks. She was shivering.

"It's so cold. Help me, please. I'm lost and all alone, and I can't find my way in this storm."

Halea trudged closer through the heavy snow, almost not believing her eyes, but it was a little girl.

"How did you get all the way out here? Where are your parents?"

"Please, help me. It's so cold," the little girl wailed.

Halea didn't know what to do; she was already on the run for her life and now this.

"Come with me," she said as she held out her hand towards the little girl, who reached back with thin fingers stiff from cold.

But the moment the child's hand touched her, the world before her eyes turned and blackened.

_Hurt. Rejection. Loneliness. Children taunting her. Throwing rocks at her. A scrawny wolf boy. Wooden structures built into trees. Her mother's fear. Her mother trying to protect her. Her reunion with the wolf boy. A demon attack. A gleaming blue crystal in water. Sadness. The last warm embrace of her mother. The sea. A tower. A ship. Chaos. Death. A fire. Choking smoke and searing heat. A cloak of red. Powerful arms and shining armor. A city crumbling into the sea. Devastating loss. Silver eyes. Sad eyes. Lonely eyes. A den with no wolves. Bones. Loss. Pain. Sorrow. A bowl shattering to pieces. Familiar blue eyes._

"Halea, get away from it!" she heard a woman shout, and suddenly she was violently yanked by the arm. The world tilted around her, and once again she was in the storm and being dragged away from something crouching in the snow.

A strange severed appendage seeped black blood onto the show before the crouching form of a small child. But this was no child. Its chest had cracked open to reveal the bloody stump of whatever part of it now lay in the snow. Its eyes were solid black.

It let out an ear piercing shriek as it trembled all over.

Halea was still being pulled back when the creature crouched and to her horror eight spindly legs sprouted from what now had become a strange and bulbous body that was covered in grotesque barb-like hairs. It possessed mandibles where a mouth should have been and gleaming multi-faceted eyes.

Halea screamed as yet another appendage shot out from beneath the beast, a gleaming barb that darted towards her as the monster sprang forward. Whoever had pulled her away jumped in for the attack and slashed into the creature with razor-sharp claws, causing it to shriek once more as it burst into blackish tar-like blood and putrid green smoke that rose into the air.

Halea watched in disgust as the remaining severed appendage dissolved before her eyes leaving only a black smudge on the snow.

"What the hell was that? Hey? Are you listening? Snap out of it, stupid!" shouted the woman, and it was only then that Halea looked up and recognized that it was Otsana who had rescued her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note from your humble author: Yes, I'm sure some of you saw Maven being a problem long in advance. Again, this is why I don't write mystery! LOL. What is Lord Anshar up to? Well, no good, that's for damn sure! Poor Halea, she almost got Varg to quit being such a stubborn over-protective alpha, almost. When will that boy learn? Hopefully soon, or he might have a rough lesson ahead. And what's this? Otsana saved Halea's life? Maybe she isn't all bad after all? There is much more to her character than meets the eye, but is it enough for them to become friends? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe just frienemies? Passive aggressive contemporaries? Perhaps Úlfa has a reason for constantly trying to bring those two together? Well, you'll have to keep reading to find out.
> 
> Thank you to all my readers. If you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think of the story. I love hearing from you guys!


	21. The Will of An Alpha

Varg found his way much quicker this time and was greeted by the crow on his arrival.

"Welcome, Wolf King."

Corbin was already in his humanoid form, for which Varg was grateful as his other appearance was unsettling to behold. He sat upon a high rock, twirling his sword in his hand with a fluidity that hinted at the true skill of a swordmaster. His dark reflective eyes glittered as they took in the world around him.

"Greetings," Varg curtly replied.

"Well, let's begin then," said Corbin as he leaped down from his rock, his sword flashing as he launched an all-out attack on his opponent.

Varg barely had time to duck away from Corbin's blade as he quickly unsheathed his own weapon. With two hands clutching the hilt, he held the Fang before himself in defense against a series of lightning fast strikes from the Swordmaster.

And then the Fang was gone.

It had been torn from his hands before he had even had a chance to make a move against the bird therian, and he quickly found himself with the sharp tip of Abaddon pressed against his throat.

"Well, that was awful," critiqued Corbin with a disgusted frown.

Varg's only response was to growl in frustration. Being defeated was shameful for an alpha, and he was suddenly struggling to contain his inner beast.

Corbin watched in amusement as the red began to seep into the edges of the lycan's eyes.

"Aw. Have I wounded your pride, Great King?"

Varg's fangs began to elongate as the rage slowly began to build within him.

"So this is who the gods choose to send me? They must have made a mistake; you're only a pup."

Varg made an angry swipe for Corbin's throat but found only air. He felt a sharp sting along his forearm and looked down to see a long gash that was oozing blood.

Corbin looked amused as he deftly swung his sword.

"Careful, that was only a taste. Now get a grip on yourself before I send you home with your tail between your legs."

Varg was so angry his fists were shaking, and he could feel his claws cutting into his palms, but he took several deep breaths as he tried to force down his inner wolf which was begging to eat that bird alive.

"He spared you, didn't he?" asked Corbin, when it looked like Varg was regaining some semblance of control. Though it appeared to only send the alpha into another near rage and his only response was a vicious snarl.

"I suppose that's the only way you walked away from that fight alive, isn't it? Aside from a few dormant first descendants, Lord Anshar is the most powerful therian alive. He has lived for ages and has complete mastery of his weapon. Perhaps one of the greatest swordsmen in all the world. Oh, how I would love a duel with him - a true opponent. He might be the only soul alive that could really stand a chance. But, alas, if such a duel were fated, the gods would have shown it to me by now."

Corbin had no control over which visions he received from the gods. Sometimes he saw the past, sometimes the present, but often, he saw the future. He had seen the day the dragon cast himself into the Chaos, and he knew that Varg had lost the fight. The resentment was written all over the lycan's face.

"You're going to have to set that alpha ego aside if you want the gods to grant you their favor. It's clear you have issues with anger. But lycans are the temperamental sort, aren't they? I'm aware that it's not in your nature to deny your inner beast, but only those who are humble can stand before the gods."

"I will not give up," replied Varg.

"Well, good for you!" replied Corbin sarcastically. "But, effort doesn't count for everything. There's so much you need to learn. Your skills with a sword are, to be frank, non-existent. Yes, I know that's not your fault. You wolves don't make use of weapons, preferring to rely on nature's gifts, but only the gifts of the gods can save you now. So do me a favor, and put the beast away. While you're with me, you are not a lycan, you are not an alpha, you are not a king; you are a lump of clay. You know nothing, you assume nothing, and you will follow my instructions implicitly, or you can go back to your pack and figure out things for yourself."

Varg inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring and he forced himself to unfurl his fists.

The gods were already asking quite a lot of him. He went into this know the price would be high, but this was going to be much harder than he had ever imagined.

"I will not lash out in anger again. You have my word."

"And?"

Varg narrowed his eyes, but after a moment of reluctance, he finally spoke.

"I submit."

Corbin's face lit up, his thin lips producing a garish smile.

"Perhaps the gods will make something of you yet," he offered. "Now, pick up your weapon."

Varg obediently retrieved his sword and resumed a fighting stance before the crow.

"No. All wrong. Gods, man! Loosen up!"

Varg made an unsatisfactory attempt at adjusting his stance.

"You're not swinging a club. Try holding the sword in your dominant hand only. Now, loosen your grip a little. The wrist must be nimble, and don't stand there like a statue! Feet apart. A well-balanced stance is crucial. Harnessing the basic destructive power of the Fang is a skill that any wolf king who has obtained the right of the divine can master, but most never bother to obtain any real skill with the sword. There hasn't been a true lycan swordsman since Randell the first."

Randell was the first son of the wolf god, Radulf. He was also the first lycan and the first wolf king. It was said that Radulf forged the Fang and presented it to Randell so that he would be a true alpha, worthy of protecting his people.

"I'll be fair this time and give you a chance. Go ahead, make your move."

Varg attempted a clumsy attack, slashing wildly at his opponent, but Corbin blocked the swing without batting an eye. In a matter of seconds, Varg had been disarmed.

He was growling in frustration again as he angrily retrieved his sword.

This time Corbin was far less _fair_ and wasted no time, charging in with another series of vicious attacks which forced Varg to do little more than getting his weapon up in time to avoid being killed. While Varg was fast, Corbin managed to be even faster, and despite his frail frame, he possessed a surprising amount of physical strength that nearly caused Varg to topple backward as he struggled to hold off his opponent.

Again, Varg found himself disarmed; this time with Abaddon pointed at his heart.

For hours they continued on this way, with Varg repeatedly doing little more than defending himself, always to be disarmed, or to find Corbin's blade halting just before the moment that would deliver a killing strike. He received cuts and gashes all over his body, yet Corbin remained entirely untouched. The Swordmaster never faltered or even looked remotely tired. Varg's wounds would heal quickly, by evening they would be little more than scratches, but he snarled in frustration with every slice of Corbin's blade.

Suddenly, he sensed something from Halea that caused him to falter, resulting in a painful stab to his thigh.

"Stop! Stop!" he growled when Corbin withdrew his sword.

"Giving up already?"

"No, something's wrong. Something is wrong with my mate!" he replied as he continued to sense across their bond.

"You mustn't lose focus. You're here to prove your worth."

"To hell with you! She's in danger!" Varg shouted as he turned his back to the Swordmaster, but before he could transform into his wolf shape, he felt a sensation like fire running down the back of his hamstring.

Varg snarled in anger as he fell to his knees in pain.

"You are _not_ going anywhere," Corbin said coldly as he moved where Varg could see him.

"You, bastard! My mate's in danger, she..."

"She doesn't need you, oh Great King. Not today. Do not forget that I have the sight. She is in danger, yes, but your mate is far from helpless. Why don't you trust her?"

The Swordmaster's words cut deeper than his blade. Only that morning, she had asked him the same question.

"That's not true, she needs me; I feel it!"

"Listen to me carefully, Varg. She'll be fine. I have seen it. I swear upon my father's name, Morigan; you will see her tonight, and she will be unharmed. You must calm the beast within you, or the gods will never help you. If you truly want to help your mate, your place is here."

"And how the hell am I supposed to duel when I can't even stand?" he growled.

"We're done dueling, for today. You're in luck though because I have so many things I can lecture about to you. Now make yourself comfortable, if you can, and I'll begin by discussing form and balance."

* * *

"Otsana? What just happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to ask you! You just ran off, and you didn't even tell anyone. I thought you weren't supposed to go off alone?"

"Um...I just...well, I thought..."

Halea didn't know how to explain her behavior as it suddenly occurred to her that she must have been wrong about Otsana and the others. Maybe they weren't out to get her. She felt embarrassed and ashamed that she had allowed her paranoia to cause her to put her life in jeopardy, and worse, to break her promise to Varg.

"That demon was strange. It hardly had any scent at all, not until I got closer. That was when I noticed its black eyes and that crazy spike coming out of its chest. It was going to kill you! Why were you just standing there? Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"It did something to me. It...was in my mind. It looked like a human child when I first saw it, and it spoke! It lured me to it by calling for help. I've never seen a demon like that before," Halea confessed. Up until recently, she had never seen a demon with eyes that could pass for human. They either had no eyes, or eyes of solid black, but this demon had been able to mimic the human form successfully, and that fact left her feeling deeply unsettled.

"It stinks here now. Get up! We have to get back to the pack," demanded Otsana as she roughly yanked Halea to her feet and began dragging her back through the storm.

"Wait."

"What?" grumbled the irate she-wolf.

"Why...why did you help me?"

Otsana had turned back, her brow furrowed as she took an uncomfortably long moment to reply as if asking herself that very same question.

"Well, do I look suicidal or something? Mother told me to guard you, and apparently, you need it because you just go running off and nearly get yourself killed. Some priestess demon hunting expert you are! And if you didn't run off to hunt that demon, why did you run off? You still haven't answered me, and considering I just saved your ass, I think you owe me an explanation."

Halea's shame and guilt were evident by the fact that she could barely meet the angry she-wolf's glare as she was being scolded.

" _So much for my alpha authority_ ," she bitterly thought, but Otsana was right. She did owe her an explanation, and an apology.

"I thought you guys were going to turn on me. I saw you arguing with Fenris, and then when everyone masked their scent...well...I assumed the worst."

Otsana regarded her in dumbfounded silence. When Halea finally forced herself to meet the she-wolf's gaze, she watched her face cloud with newfound anger.

"You really are a stupid human! Why would we kill you? Varg would massacre the lot of us if he thought we turned on you. True, with our scents masked, we could frame a demon, and you did just come close to being killed by one, but there's no way I wouldn't be the first person he'd suspect. All he'd have to do is interrogate me or the others to know the truth, so you see, you're an idiot. I should have let that demon have you!" she growled.

Halea took the admonishment without complaint, again, Otsana was right. Lycans couldn't lie, and of course, Varg would ask questions. She had let her imagination run wild in the worst way and made a total fool of herself in the process.

"I'm sorry."

Maybe it was the heavy winds of the storm, but Otsana couldn't quite believe her ears.

"What?"

"I said, I'm sorry," Halea repeated, a little louder.

Otsana just stared at her blankly, her mouth ajar.

"Look, I nearly got murdered by a lycan not too long ago, and you and I aren't exactly pals. Of course, I'm paranoid out of my mind! Do you think fitting in with you mangy wolves has been easy? And if you weren't plotting my murder why were you and Fenris fighting in the middle of the hunt?"

"Because he was trying to lead the group, and it's not his place!" blurted Otsana.

Now, it was Halea's turn to be shocked into silence.

"He thinks he has what it takes to be an alpha someday, but he's just a pretentious beta who likes to act tough. I don't submit to betas...ever."

"Oh," was Halea's only reply, and without further discourse, they made their way back.

The worst of the blizzard seemed to have finally passed, and all that remained was a gentle snowfall by the time they reunited with the pack of warriors.

"Wolfmother, where did you go?" asked one of the female hunters who had a look of genuine concern written on her face.

"Forgive me for disappearing," Halea offered, avoiding explanation. "It's getting late. I'd like to finish this hunt before dark. Otsana, where does the scent lead?"

Otsana seemed taken aback by the question at first, but without complaint, she moved ahead, easily detecting the scent that was still fresh in the snow, before urging the pack forward. Fenris stayed close to the front but did not attempt to overtake the lead.

After several more minutes of following the trail, Otsana raised her hand to signal a halt, and Halea watched as the lycans grouped close together. Several of them were growling, and she knew something was coming through the trees, and it wasn't long before she could hear the raucous approach of a demon hoard.

Halea felt the wind blow in the direction of the sounds, and again she felt guilty. It was her scent that was drawing them out.

She quickly shoved her way to the front of the pack and pulled her knife from her robe.

"We're not waiting here for them. There must be a tear up ahead. We'll have to fight our way through," she said as she rushed forward just as the demons began appearing through the trees.

The lycans were right beside her as the demons attacked. They were many, but not an overwhelming number, and soon everyone was fighting against the servants of Chaos.

Halea used her knife, charged with her purification powers, and quickly took down two demons that tried to team up against her. Without her spear, she was at a disadvantage, but her speed and skill in hand-to-hand combat allowed her to defeat any who stood against her. Even with nothing more than her glowing fists, if she could make contact with a demon, she could purify it.

Around her the lycans were tearing into the demons with claw and fang, some in their humanoid forms, some in their wolf forms. Black blood was soon seeping into the snow all around them, but they continued to press forward.

As Halea ran ahead, she caught a glimpse of the swirling purple vortex of a tear. She had to seal it before more demons emerged, but before she could get closer, a new demon appeared through the rift. It walked on four legs, yet still had the upper body of a humanoid. Its upper arms ending in long pincer-like claws that made a loud snapping sound as it rushed towards her. That was when Halea noticed that unlike the others, this demon had eyes of solid black, and she readied her knife.

She ducked just as its pincers were about to clamp down on her and tried to cut into the underbelly of the creature, but it sprang up to avoid contact with her glowing blade. She rolled aside just as the beast stabbed down towards her and that was when several lycans in wolf form beset the demon. With one lycan biting down on each arm the creature was unable to flee, and Halea sprang forward and stabbed the demon in the chest with her glowing blade causing it to burst into the white light of purification.

One of the wolves transformed, and she discovered that it was Fenris.

"Can you stop it?" he asked, referring to the tear that was now pulsing, warning of more demons that would soon cross between the dimensions.

"Keep them off me," she replied and raced towards the tear. Holding her hands aloft, she called upon Tiamet, and the goddess filled her with the white light of purification, and soon the tear began to shrink.

The lycans battled all around her, and soon the last of the demons were eliminated. When they were done with their gruesome task, they looked in time to witness the tear snapping shut with a thunderous crash. Except for their panting breaths, the forest was silent.

Halea sighed in relief. Priestess or no, Tiamet was still with her, and somehow that thought made a fire burn in her heart. As long as the will of Tiamet was still at work, there had to be a way.

Only two of their party suffered wounds. The wounds themselves were not dangerous, but they had been inflicted by dark weapons and Halea quickly went to work purifying the injured.

While Halea was working with the wounded, several had broken off to check the surrounding area.

"I think that's all of them. There don't appear to be any new scent trails beyond this point," reported Fenris.

"Good. Thank you, everyone. Let's meet up with Alpha Ethelwolf's pack and make sure they're okay; then we'll head back to the den," Halea replied.

As they began to move out, Halea noticed a silent exchange between Fenris and Otsana. The two lycans were staring each other down, and she realized she was watching a battle of wills. Though Fenris was much larger than Otsana, she refused to submit, and that was when Halea decided to intervene.

"Seeing as I've already been separated from everyone once, perhaps you'll lead the way, Otsana. I'd hate to get lost."

Halea watched as reluctantly Fenris broke eye-contact with the she-wolf, and with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders he fell in with the rest of the pack. Otsana did not look pleased with Halea's interference, but without argument, she led them back through the snow.

When they finally reunited with Ethelwolf and the others, they learned that they had found and eliminated only one demon, and none of their party had suffered injury. With Halea's report, Ethelwolf seemed hopeful.

"Perhaps that will be the last of them for a while," he said, but Halea couldn't share his optimism. She knew deep down inside, things would continue to get gradually worse, and their world would once again have to face the convergence. It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Poor Varg. Can't be easy for the big bad wolf to have to submit to a ratty old bird, but he's going to have to learn to cool off and wisen up if he wants to impress them gods. Corbin is pretty ruthless and sassy. Speaking of crows, it would seem Halea's going to be eating some (weird obscure colloquial idiom). Perhaps next chapter we'll finally found out what Úlfa is up to. Also, our favorite sneaky dragon might just be up to more evil-doings. MWAHAHAHAHA!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far! You guys are awesome and I hope I'm entertaining you. If you're enjoying the Convergence series and you happen to have a Goodreads account, it just so happens that [Torn Apart is listed on Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36157335-torn-apart) (search J.M. Riddles). If you liked the first book, please, please, please, take a moment and leave me a review on Goodreads. I would be so appreciative. It would really mean the world to me.
> 
> And, of course, comments and feedback right here on AO3 are also appreciated. You guys have no idea how happy you make me when I get to hear from you, so thank you to anyone who has ever left me any feedback/comments.


	22. Unexpected Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Things are taking a dark turn! Hold onto your butts!

"Is there no way to contact them?" asked Uro.

"I'm afraid if we send ravens to coordinate with the other priestesses; Lord Anshar could follow them and find where they've been hiding. We can't take that risk," replied Kalee as she buried her face in her hands where she sat at the table listening to Uro going over the latest maps indicating the most recently reported demon attacks. Another small village south of Westvear had been completely destroyed, and most of its inhabitants eaten alive.

Ravens were trained to deliver messages along familiar direct routes, but also to sweep back and forth over large areas, where their sharp eyes could easily distinguish the white robes that were the priestesses' signature uniform. It took much longer for the birds to find the priestesses without a direct location, and often they were unsuccessful at finding any priestess at all, but if a raven found even one priestess and was seen attempting to land with a message tied to its leg, its presence could reveal them to their enemy.

Codeon gave Edmund a crestfallen glance. They had discovered the ruined village on their way back to Antherose, and it had fallen on them to report the discovery to Uro. There had been no survivors, but the two clerics had managed to slay several of the demons that remained in the area and set up a barrier around the tear that had unleashed the creatures of Chaos, but it would not hold indefinitely. Complaints and pleas for help were flowing into Antherose from the neighboring communities, and there was little they could do.

"I'll have to go seal it myself," Kalee relented.

"Are you sure that's safe?" asked Codeon. A known tear would be the perfect place for Lord Anshar to wait in ambush to slay another priestess.

"Safety is a luxury we cannot afford in these times," she replied.

"We also cannot afford to lose any more priestesses. Perhaps I should make the journey. I can strengthen the barrier and perhaps stop in Westvear to make a formal request for rangers to be dispatched to aid with the hunting and elimination of these demons," offered Uro.

"Master, no offense, but think of your health. That's a very long journey for one of your...years, and besides, it's not the ranger's job," argued Edmond.

"I'm not dead yet! It's time we accept that we can't do this on our own anymore."

Uro hated to call upon the rangers, but they were the only ones with the skills and experience that would be able to offer any useful assistance. Rangers were the crown-appointed keepers of peace within the realm. They wandered between villages and cities, usually eliminating marauders, arresting petty criminals, and occasionally battling therians who preyed on innocent humans. Rangers ensured that roads for travel and trade between cities and villages remained safe. They were nomadic, but skilled warriors who usually respected the devotees of Tiamet as the priestesses and clerics were the realm's sole defenders against the agents of Chaos. The rangers usually wanted no part in battling demons as they had no mastery for spells of purification and no defense against the highly lethal dark weapons. Their duties rarely involved them in dealing with the Chaos Dimension.

Much to his disappointment, Perion, his only son and Halea's father, had chosen the life of a ranger instead of the life of a cleric. It was a bitter memory, and it was hard for him to interact with the rangers without being reminded of his son's death, but he had to put aside his pain and resentment.

A loud knock at the door caused Codeon nearly to jump out of her skin. Edmond quickly got up to answer it, but first peeked out the window to see who it was.

With a sigh of relief, he opened the door.

"Able! Welcome. Come in," offered Edmond.

"What is it? What happened?" asked Kalee the moment she noticed the hesitant and fearful look in Able's eyes.

Edmon pulled out a chair for the younger cleric who slumped into his seat as if the weight of the world were finally too much for him.

"I saw him," he finally spoke, and instantly had the undivided attention of everyone in the room.

"He killed them...but why didn't he kill me?" he broke down and sobbed.

Kalee rushed to his side and placed a comforting arm around his shaking shoulders.

Everyone waited patiently until the young cleric was able to regain some of his composure.

"Who was with you?" Edmond asked.

"Nancy, Lorin, Francine, and Kert," he answered, then went on to recount his last moments with his fellow clerics and the priestesses.

Edmond had to wrap his arms around Codeon who had nearly collapsed in grief at the news. Lorin was a very young priestess and had been trained in the ways of Tiamet by Codeon; she had been her last apprentice.

Edmond had been given a young blessed devotee to be his apprentice, but after Dean's unfortunate turn of events, he had no choice to but to pass his apprentice on to another cleric to complete her training. He couldn't devote himself to anyone else while Dean was in need, and without Lord Anshar to bestow the gifts of Tiamet, it was unlikely there would be any new priestesses.

"I ran blindly for hours. I didn't know where to go, or what to do. I didn't even know where I was and I didn't particularly care. I just had to get away. That was when I saw a campfire in the forest, and by the grace of Tiamet, I stumbled upon Elise. We traveled together for several more days, seeking out the priestesses. Elise wouldn't tell me why, but she said there was a way to help them and I didn't want to be alone."

Kalee listened to Able's story in silence, she knew Elise must have been passing on the scent masking potion, but because of the oath of secrecy, she could not speak of it.

"I begged her to go into hiding; that he would hunt her down like he did the others, but she wouldn't listen, and that was when the raven came."

"A raven?" asked Uro, his already wrinkled brow furrowing even more in concern.

"Yes, with a message from High Priestess Maven. It said she was looking for priestesses and asking them to return to the castle immediately. That was when we set out for Antherose."

Kalee jumped up, her face stricken pale. "Did you relay this message to any of the other priestesses?"

"No, by the time the raven came we were on our own, the other priestesses had already gone back into hiding. I asked Elise if we should go find them again, but she said she wanted to know the meaning of the message first."

"Where is she?" Kalee asked in a voice rising with panic.

"She's gone on to the castle. She asked me to come here and make my report to Master Uro. Wait! Where are you going?"

But he received no response as Kalee grabbed her cloak and spear and rushed out the door and into the streets of Antherose.

Using her superhuman speed Kalee raced up the road towards the castle, but something up ahead made her slide to a halt. Favion was making his way back from the castle, and she could see him turning towards the lane the led to the harbor. A sinking feeling of suspicion caused her quickly to change her course.

"Favion, wait!" she cried, and to her relief, he heard her and looked up in time to greet her with one of his usual warm and inviting smiles.

"Kalee! I'm so glad to see you. Listen, about that other night; I just wanted to..."

"Not now! What's happening at the castle? Why is Maven calling the priestesses?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, and she could see the genuine confusion in his eyes.

"Maven sent a raven calling for the priestesses to return. Why?"

Favion had no answer for her. This was all news to him, but suddenly Kalee's eyes found the sealed letter protruding from his pocket. "What is that?"

"A letter for the harbormaster. High Priestess Maven asked me to deliver it on my way out. It's supposed to go out on the next ship. Kalee, what are you doing?" he shouted as she snatched the envelope from his pocket and before he could seize it, she had broken the wax seal and torn it open.

"Kalee, have you lost your mind?"

She ignored him as her eyes scanned the contents of the letter. Her heart began to race, and cold sweat began to drip down her back.

"Kalee, what is it? What's going on?"

"She's calling for all of our priestesses from across the sea to come to Antherose."

"What? But why? If they come here, they could be killed!"

Kalee tore up the letter and cast it into the wind before turning and running up the road towards the castle, leaving Favion confused and worried.

When Kalee finally reached the castle, she took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves as she walked through the echoing halls. She was heading straight for Lord Anshar's study; the place the High Priestess had sequestered since the disappearance of the head of their faith.

"Kalee, where are you going?" a voice called and Kalee spun to find Maven moving towards her through the hall.

"I was just on my way to see you," Kalee answered. She could immediately sense that something was off about Maven. For months the woman had barely been sober or coherent, her eyes puffy and rimmed with dark circles from lack of sleep and constant weeping. The signs of exhaustion were all still there, but there was something else, some new spark of invigoration, of lucidity.

"If you have something to report to me, you may do it here."

Kalee chose her next words carefully.

"Edmond and Codeon have reported to Master Uro about the destruction of a village between here and Westvear. There's a tear that needs to be sealed. Able has also returned from his last mission, and he said Elise was with him. He said you sent a message by raven asking her to return. Why? It's dangerous to call the priestesses here at a time like this. We're being hunted."

"I am aware of the damage that has been done, of the tear left unsealed. The requests for help have not stopped. I knew you would be too cowardly to go, and so I called for Elise because she is obedient. Don't forget, Kalee. It is for me to decide what is best. Don't think I don't see how you act like a frightened child. You seem to have no problem hiding within the city while the others are out there dying. Dallying with Favion again, I'm sure."

Kalee bristled at Maven's cutting words. "At least I'm not risking their lives by sending ravens! Of course, I'm frightened, we'd have to be stupid not to be, and Favion has nothing to do with this!"

Maven smiled cruelly, her eyes crinkling at the edges to see such a defensive reaction from the red-headed priestess. She had always noticed Kalee struggling to avoid a deeper connection with the young cleric who had once been the focus of her favor. She had lived nearly an age, and she had watched many a priestess struggle to keep their oath. She knew Kalee was more tempted than she would ever willingly admit.

"A true believer has nothing to fear from our Lord. If you're frightened, perhaps it is because you have already sinned in your heart."

Kalee's knuckles turned white as she gripped her spear tight enough to nearly bend her weapon. "Where is Elise? I want to see her."

"She has already left to seal the tear that you were too cowardly to manage. Elise, it would seem, is a true believer. I am sure she walks with Tiamet on her side."

"How many other priestesses have you contacted? How many other messages have you sent?"

"None," Maven replied, but Kalee noticed the slight way she turned her eyes while speaking.

"You haven't asked anyone else to come?"

"As you said yourself, it's not safe. Though, I wonder, if it's so unsafe, why are you here?"

"I'm...leaving actually."

"Before you go, come with me. There are some maps I would like to go over with you."

"Maps?"

"I've received messages concerning the sightings of demons. If you're going to return to your duties, perhaps it would be best if you knew where to start your hunt."

A terrible sense of foreboding rolled over her like a black cloud, causing her to hesitate.

"I don't need a map. I know where to look, thank you," she quickly turned and walked away at a brisk pace as she struggled not to break out into a full run.

To her relief, Maven didn't call after her or attempt to follow, but she could feel the eyes of the High Priestess boring into her as she made her way back to the castle entrance. When she thought she was no longer being watched, she opened the heavy entryway door then closed it again with an audible slam before she ducked behind one of the marble pillars and pulled a small vile from her robes. She downed the contents in a single gulp and then waited. She wasn't sure how long it would take for the potion to take effect, but Halea had told her it didn't take long.

Somewhere deep within the castle, she heard the echo of a door opening and closing again. With a deep breath, she began to move behind the pillars back towards the hall. She froze and then ducked into the shadows as she heard the sound of footsteps and lowered voices retreating further into the castle. She couldn't be sure, they were so far away, but one of the voices echoing through the empty halls sounded like that of a man. When the last of the sounds faded, she moved as silently as she could back down the hallway and towards the study that had once belonged to Lord Anshar.

She hesitated as she clutched the door handle. No. What if something was in there? She couldn't shake that cold feeling of dread that she had felt as Maven had tried to convince her to follow her to look at the maps, but she needed to know the truth. What if Elise hadn't left the castle? What if more ravens had been sent with messages? She had already caught Maven in one lie; she needed to know the truth. Gently she pressed her ear to the door, but she could detect no sound.

At last, she mustered her courage to open the door.

It was empty.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and she suddenly realized that her hands were trembling uncontrollably. But she wasn't safe yet. Someone could return at any moment.

She rushed to the desk and began pawing through the High Priestess's papers. Panic set in as she saw before her, the many messages written in Maven's hand; all of them asking the priestesses to return to the castle.

She noticed the glint of something in her peripheral vision, and when she turned her head, her blood froze.

The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds was resting above the mantle, fresh blood dripping from its edge. That was when she actually looked around the room.

Traces of splattered blood were everywhere. There was also a trail of blood that indicated that something had been dragged across the floor. She followed the bloody streaks until she found it - a discarded spear lying behind a pile of books and scrolls.

But this was not Maven's spear, as her spear was the ceremonial weapon of a High Priestess. That was when Kalee knew; she had to get out.

With utmost stealth, she slipped out of the study and made her way out of the castle, and once safely outside, she ran.

* * *

Halea stared into her cup of tea as she sat in front of the fire. The events of the day continued to replay in her mind. She couldn't forget the way the strange demon had sifted through her memories. The servants of Chaos had changed. They were more dangerous, deceptive, calculating, but to what purpose? Why would a demon want to see into her mind? Why would it care? Why didn't it just kill her when it had the chance? What was it looking for? On top of her unsettling encounter, she was still filled with shame and regret for the way she behaved towards the lycans of Ethelwolf's pack. She had misjudged everyone, especially Otsana.

It wasn't that she had any delusions that she and Otsana were now friends, far from it. The she-wolf had stomped off the moment they returned to the den, and every time Halea had dared to look in her direction, the female lycan would turn her back in disdain at the intrusive glance of the human Wolfmother. It appeared that Otsana had merely acted on her orders, but even if that was the case, Halea couldn't help but feel somewhat indebted.

As the lycans slowly began to vacate the alpha's pit after the evening meal, Halea was once again confronted with the dark eyes and sharp smile of the eastern Wolfmother.

"Why?"

Úlfa cocked her head as if genuinely confused by Halea's question.

"Why did you send her to protect me?"

"If I'm not mistaken, it's because you gave your word to Varg that you would not go out without someone to watch over you."

"But why her? You know she hates me! And I'm sure you know why she hates me. She didn't even want to join the hunt today; you made her go, because of me. Why?"

Úlfa sat down beside Halea and faced the human woman before she finally spoke.

"We do not play games with each other's hearts. It's wrong. Trying to trick someone into loving you when you cannot love them in return is cruel. If she had succeeded in making Varg love her, she could have broken his heart. We lycans love deeply, completely, loyally, and even when she was a girl, Erish and I knew she was trying to play a dangerous game. But Varg didn't want her, much to our relief, at least for his sake, and she needed to learn that what she wanted, he could never give her. No one can give her what she wants. She has to earn it. For her, there will be no other way."

Halea was familiar with the way lycans loved. She had experienced such unwavering devotion when Varg had chosen her. Batsuba had warned her that if a lycan truly fell in love, if they chose their destined mate, they could not easily move on if they were rejected, or if they lost their chosen. A lycan could endure heartache for years beyond count. They did not heal from such pain the way humans did.

Varg had assured her that Otsana did not really love him and that she only wanted him to choose her because he was an alpha. He confessed that Otsana had once told him she could learn to love him, but he didn't believe that. Varg knew what true love was, he had seen it in Halea's eyes, and he knew Otsana would never look at him the way Halea did. If Varg had fallen for Otsana's deception, he could have been gravely harmed, but luckily for him, his love for Halea had never waned, even when he had spent years believing she was dead. He could never let Halea go because even though he didn't fully realize it at the time, his choice had already been made.

"What do you mean? What does she want?"

"Can you, who pray to the Dragon, not see? Death is all around us, and even that which is immortal can die. The Dimension of Chaos is tearing this world apart. Many have already been lost, and many more will die. No one can say for sure who will be next, but Erish and I are not foolish enough to believe that we can truly rein forever. He and I are alphas. It's who we are. It's in our blood, in our souls, and we have passed this power on to our only child. She is both strong and strong-willed, but there is doubt as well. She believes an alpha mate will secure her place of dominance, but she's wrong."

Halea wasn't sure what to say as she watched Úlfa turn her eyes to the fire. She thought she saw a gleam of moisture before the she-wolf blinked it away, and with a sigh, turn back to address her once more.

"I like you, Halea. I sense you doubt that, but it's true. I like you because you are strong. You were not born to us, but I've seen the fire in your eyes; the will of a Wolfmother. A _true_ alpha bitch. Not just because Varg made you his queen, but because there is a drive within you to prove yourself, to fight. When I learned that you defeated Rafe, I knew that you were the one I've been waiting for."

"You were waiting for me?"

Úlfa smiled, her white fangs shining in the firelight, a smile that was warm and honest.

"I think you're exactly what she needs."

"I'm not so sure about that," Halea quickly replied. She couldn't imagine what someone like Otsana would need from her.

"I don't blame you for doubting her, and yes, I know you two don't exactly get along. I can't even blame you for hating her. She has wronged you, and she has wronged Varg, and for that, she does not deserve your kindness, but it is I who am begging you. Please, won't you help her? I would be forever in your debt."

Halea wasn't even sure what Úlfa was asking her to do. Help Otsana? How? To what purpose? What could a human like her do anyway? She was still new to lycan culture herself, and she had her own struggles with understanding the ways of alphas.

"I...I don't know what it is you want me to do."

"Please, just talk to her. Only she can explain it to you. I think if you two could understand each other, it would make all the difference in the world."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to talk to me," argued Halea.

"She's a terrible brat, that is true, but please try. Please, speak to her. You're her only hope."

Halea sighed in resignation. She did _not_ want to interact with Otsana, but even though the younger she-wolf hated her guts, she had put her prejudice aside to fulfill her duty as Halea's bodyguard. Halea felt like she owed her at least something for saving her life.

But was talking to Otsana all she really needed to do? That seemed too easy. How was that supposed to do her any good?

"I can't make any promises, but I guess I can try to talk to her...a little. You still haven't told me why you wanted me to pay attention to Fenris today."

"I think the subject of Fenris would be an excellent conversation starter for when you do decide to talk to my daughter," Úlfa replied with a fanged grin, and with that, the eastern Wolfmother excused herself for the night.

As Halea was walking up the path to the king's cave when she noticed Varg making his way towards her, and her heart leaped at the sight of him limping.

"Varg? What happened? Are you okay?" she cried as she rushed to his side.

"Halea!" he exclaimed in equal concern. "What happened? Did someone attack you? Something frightened you today, I could feel it," he asked as his mate threw herself into his waiting arms.

"It was...a misunderstanding. Everything is okay, I promise. Please, let's get into the cave so I can take a look at your injury."

"It's nothing, it'll be completely healed by morning," he argued, but Halea could sense that his pride was more wounded than his leg.

"You're not getting out of an examination, so no more arguing," she said as she grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders to allow him to lean on her and take some of the weight off his injury.

"Oh, gods, you sound like Batsuba when you talk like that," he conceded with a grin.

"Maybe we're grumpy because we have such stubborn wolves for patients."

Halea helped Varg into the cave and quickly went to work dressing the wound on his leg using some of the emergency medical supplies she had brought in her travel bag.

Varg lay in bed on his stomach as she was cleaning the wound, but he couldn't wait before broaching the subject again.

"Tell me what happened today, Halea. I need to know."

Halea sighed as she worked. She had suspected he wouldn't just let it go, and now it was her turn for her pride to be wounded.

"I was stupid. It was all my fault," she said as she went on to explain how she had completely misjudged both Úlfa and Otsana, and in the process, nearly gotten herself killed. Ever muscle in Varg's body tensed up as she told him of how close she had come to losing her life to the shape-shifting demon.

"Otsana is the worst person in the world I could be indebted to, but she did save my life, and it seems to be very important to Úlfa that she and I come to understand each other. I figure it's the least I can do."

"Halea?"

"What?" she asked as she finished bandaging his leg and allowed him to roll over and face her. He gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward until she was lying beside him.

"This happened to me because I doubted you again. The moment I sensed your danger, I was going to abandon everything and come for you, but the Swordmaster stopped me. He knew you wouldn't die today, he said he could see it, but that wasn't much comfort. The beast in me wants to be furious that you needlessly risked your life; the other part of me..." he trailed off.

Halea could sense his inner struggle again, and for once she felt like his more rational side was gaining some dominance.

"I'm sorry I worry you so much. I really am a pain in the ass, aren't I?"

His chest vibrated beneath her as he laughed.

"You always were, but I knew what I was in for. Do me a favor; try not to do anything life-threatening tomorrow."

"That's easier said than done. I still have to talk to Otsana. What if she decides to get aggressive?"

"I guess you can handle it," he replied as he squeezed her tight.

* * *

Green smoke rolled through the trees beneath the silent winter sky. A crack of thunder announced the opening of a new tear as the smoke was sucked into the swirling interdimensional rift where it reunited with the darkness that dwelt within.

_Hurt. Rejection. Loneliness. Children taunting her. Throwing rocks at her. A scrawny wolf boy. Wooden structures built into trees. Her mother's fear. Her mother trying to protect her. Her reunion with the wolf boy. A demon attack. A gleaming blue crystal in water. Sadness. The last warm embrace of her mother. The sea. A tower. A ship. Chaos. Death. A fire. Choking smoke and searing heat. A cloak of red. Powerful arms and shining armor. A city crumbling into the sea. Devastating loss. Silver eyes. Sad eyes. Lonely eyes. A den with no wolves. Bones. Loss. Pain. Sorrow. A bowl shattering to pieces. Familiar blue eyes._

The tear pulsed as eight long spindly legs dragging a bulbous black body emerged from the purple light. Its barb-like hairs tasting the air as its multifaceted eyes gleamed in the pale moonlight that filtered through the clouds. Its repulsive form began to twist with a cracking sound that disturbed the silence of the night. Its monstrous body was replaced with a vaguely humanoid form that slowly began to shamble through the trees.

Priestesses were difficult to kill without well-planned attacks and overwhelming numbers of ordinary demons, but the darkness within the Chaos Dimension had not yet recuperated enough strength for such an attack. It would take time to make more servants. The charioteer had utterly failed to eliminate the target in the face of her power, but the shade mimic had come close. She was now constantly guarded by the lycans. That wouldn't do at all. A change of tactic would be required.

As the shade mimic walked, it grew hair, and a face began to form.

Perhaps among the humans, a better way could be found to lure its victim to her doom. It would weave an invisible web, and with patience, its time would come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Nothing to see here, just a room of blood and death! Good thing Kalee didn't let Maven lure her in there. It would seem Úlfa is looking for someone to knock some sense into her bitchy daughter. I'm sure Halea would be more than happy to slap Otsana around, ya know, for her own good n' all. Another creepy spider demon? Uh oh, and it sure has a lot of personal information this time, that can't be good. What's going to happen? You'll have to wait and find out. Who wants to see more of Varg and Corbin training and being jerks to each other? If so, you'll like the next chapter.
> 
> I've spent the past couple weeks doing a writing blitz. A writing blitz is what I call it when I really settle down and dedicate myself to writing above most other things and force myself to get work done. I really wanted to finish book 2 by the end of June and I didn't quite make it, but the good news is I did get a TON of writing done during this blitz. I think I have about 4 more chapters to go before I'll be completely done writing book 2. So it's coming along nicely and I am very excited about the end of this book. Lots of high action, surprises, revelations, maybe some more sexiness; it's going to be a wild ride from here on out! So fasten your seatbelts and hold onto your butts.
> 
> If you're enjoying this series, I really really love comments/feedback. I never tire of hearing from my readers. I promise! You guys are awesome and I love hearing from every one of you.


	23. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A note from your humble author** : Sorry the chapter is going up a few hours later than normal today. The last two weeks have been crazy busy for me. I'm well ahead on the writing, but way behind on editing.

Mama Dragon knew something was wrong the moment she noticed the raven in the sky. Rufus eyed the other bird hungrily only to receive a yank on one of his tail feathers.

"You just ate!"

He squawked and flew into a nearby tree as Mama Dragon retrieved the message from the black bird, which, much to Rufus's disappointment flew off into the north-west again.

_Mama Dragon,_

_DANGER! Lord Anshar is here in Antherose! Maven has betrayed us and is helping him by sending ravens calling every priestess to return to the castle. They'll be killed if they aren't stopped. I had to risk sending this message. The others must be warned. I will try to stop any priestesses that arrive at the castle, but if I'm caught this may be the last you hear from me._

_Kalee_

Rufus flew down from the tree to perch on Mama Dragon's shoulder, curious as to what had caused the concern in his companion's eyes, he read the note that she held up for him to see.

That raven was probably one of the ravens that had come to communicate with Halea in the past, and so it knew where to find the lycan territories. The other ravens would have a much harder time finding the remaining priestesses who were now in hiding throughout the wilds, but that didn't mean it was impossible.

She had given her word that she would stay within the lycan territories to eliminate demons and tears, and there had been several since Halea left for the eastern lands. From her post, she was one of the few, if only, easily accessible priestesses, which gave her the benefit of being a hub for messages and information outside of the devotee's stronghold in Antherose. Perhaps with Lord Anshar's return to the castle, the others would have more freedom to come out of hiding.

"We have to stop those ravens, Rufus. Can you find Samesa?"

The bird bobbed his head in affirmative, and Mama Dragon reached into her bag to dig out a small brush and some ink. She quickly added a post scriptum to the message from Kalee before attaching the small strip of parchment to Rufus's leg.

"Hurry!" she pleaded, and with a cry, Rufus took off into the air.

* * *

_The great tear of the convergence loomed in the sky. The seas churned. A city crumbled. Demons swarmed the land devouring every living thing. Fire surrounded her and no matter which way she turned she could not escape the heat that scorched her flesh or the smoke that choked her. Air. There was no air._

_A tall figure materialized within the flames. Shining armor and flowing silver hair. A hand reached for her and pulled her from the fire._

_"Don't be afraid. You're safe, I have you," she heard a deep and melodious voice reassure her._

_Suddenly he was gone, and she was alone in a strange place where there was nothing but light._

_Beautiful golden eyes flashed before her. Begging. Crying. She had never seen such sorrow as she saw within those shimmering golden orbs._

_"Save him."_

Halea awoke in the night, and Varg stirred beside her.

"Halea?"

"It's alright. Just a dream," she replied as she nestled closer to his warmth. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and quickly fell back asleep, but she could only lie there as she struggled to remember what caused her to awaken in the first place.

Varg was up before sunrise that morning, his leg fully healed. Though tired and groggy from being awakened in the night, Halea saw him off at the edge of the den with a warm embrace and few words of encouragement. When, at last, she watched him disappear through the trees, she did her best to muster her courage before returning to the heart of the den.

To her surprise, Otsana was easy to find. A small group of males who all seemed to be posturing with bright smiles and flirtatious banter was surrounding her. The she-wolf didn't seem entirely disinterested in their attention, though Halea could tell she was playing at being aloof.

This was not an unusual display; while living with Varg's pack she had become all too familiar with the way males behaved when available females were in heat, and she cursed the unfortunate timing of events. Female lycans could be particularly cranky around other women who could be seen as rivals for male affection, even if they were already mated.

Generally, the unmated avoided taking an interest in lycans who already had mates. Lycans were so fiercely loyal it was pointless to try. No one could come between a mated pair, but that didn't mean an unmated lycan couldn't be attracted, or even outwardly flirtatious towards someone who already had a mate, though they did so at the risk of their lives. Many lycans could be jealous or possessive to the point of violence. Any lycan who was unfortunate enough to fall in love and choose someone who already had a mate was doomed to an existence of loneliness and heartache for years beyond count. Once the choice was made, that lycan would become unwaveringly loyal to their unrequited love to the point of giving up on any other possible relationships. It was a pitiable state, but thankfully, a rare occurrence, and in such instances, if the lycans were of the same pack, they would have no alternative but to separate themselves from their chosen by leaving to join another pack. If they were to stay, they'd run the risk of being killed by their chosen's mate, and getting over their heartbreak was impossible if that person was always near. Banishing themselves was their only hope for any chance of moving on.

Fights among males broke out far more often when females were in heat, not only due to jealousy but in barbaric displays of dominance and prowess. An available female in heat could have her pick of the males, and choose as many as she liked, but bigger, stronger males, were always more preferable, and what better way to prove such superiority than to get into brutal fights to win the she-wolf's favor? Halea still found such behavior shocking and distasteful, but the she-wolves seemed to love the dominance displays of the males. There was almost a heightened status that went along with whoever had the most males fighting for her attention or which female received the most spoils from the hunts. Presenting females with fresh kills was also a way for lycan males to flirt and impress.

Even though Halea wasn't a lycan, she still did her best to act impressed whenever Varg brought home a massive kill from a successful hunt because she could tell he was trying to show-off for her benefit. Though it was hard to swoon over a bloody carcass, she did her best to be appreciative. He'd been that way when they were young, always offering her dead rabbits and squirrels, partly to tease her because he knew, as a human; she couldn't eat raw meat and the sight of such disgusted her, but also partly, on some instinctual level, to impress her. Back then it was easy for her to write off his strange behavior as a bratty wolf-boy trying to get a rise out of her. Looking back, she was able to realize that even from an early age, he was already demonstrating the depth of his feelings for her, in his own strange lycan way, and such memories warmed her heart.

"You're coming on the hunt, right?" asked one of the amorous males.

"Hmmm, maybe. I would like to see who makes the kill, but I might be busy," Otsana replied with a coy smile.

"Name your preference and I'll bring it back for you; elk, reindeer. I've heard a decently sized bison herd is coming down from the northern valley. Whichever you like, I'll save the heart for you," offered another male.

"You only ever get the tough old game that can't keep up with the rest of the herd," taunted another male who received an angry snarl in return for his criticism.

Halea could tell things were getting heated. She wouldn't have a chance if she waited much longer and a fight broke out, so she quickly stepped in.

"Sorry to interrupt, boys, but I'm afraid I'll have to steal her away from you. I'm foraging for medicinal roots, and Otsana is my guide and escort. I promise I'll bring her back soon."

Otsana's playful expression dissolved into bitterness that turned her face red at the human's unwanted interference. The males, though obviously disappointed, uttered no protest as the Supreme Wolfmother made her request, and with a few last boastful promises of trophies from the hunt, they said their farewells and left the females to themselves.

"What the hell do you want?" barked Otsana.

"I told you what I want; now you can come with me willingly, or I can take up your noncompliance with your mother."

That threat was enough to seal the she-wolf's lips, and Halea turned and led the way to the edge the den.

Halea carried a small collecting basket. She wouldn't be able to lie without the lycans detecting it, so she did intend to find a few medicinal roots while they were out, but foraging was not her sole reason for requesting Otsana as her escort.

Once they were safely beyond the den, Halea began poking about in the snow. Plants were much harder to identify without their leaves so she would have to dig up the roots individually to examine them. Otsana hung back, fog rising from her hot breath against the cold morning air only added to the appearance of her anger at having been dragged along.

"I didn't see Fenris among your admirers."

"Him? Ha! I wouldn't give that beta my time of day," grumbled the she-wolf.

"You didn't seem to mind all those other betas."

"At least they know their place."

Otsana was not opposed to having sexual encounters with the beta males; it's not like there was anything better to be had. For years she had tried to earn Varg's favor, but he had always spurned her advances, and even her being in heat had never been enough to entice him.

"I'd have preferred Varg, but I guess there's no accounting for taste."

Halea stood up from where she had been digging in the frozen ground with her knife and fixed Otsana with a hard stare.

"Quit taking it so personally. He didn't like you because he had already chosen me."

"What?" shouted Otsana.

"Didn't you say it once yourself; that you thought I did something to him, and that there was no way for him to fall in love with me so quickly? Well, he didn't fall in love with me at that gathering. We met long before then, long before you met him."

"That's not possible he'd of been..."

"A kid? Oh, excuse me, cub, whatever. Yes, we were children. Yes, I know that's...really weird, but it's true. You smell it right?"

Otsana stepped closer and inhaled deeply.

It was the truth.

Halea watched as Otsana's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah, it's a long story, but basically we met in the forest one day and managed not to kill each other, despite him being a total mangy wolf with a bad attitude, at first. We grew on each other with time, became friends. We spent years out there, together, and then the convergence happened, and I lost him, for a while. I guess he thought I was dead; he had every reason to believe so. Even now, all those years that I was gone still haunt him. They haunt me too. I guess in all that time, he never forgot me. We finally found each other again in the same place where we used to play as children."

Otsana's eyes opened wide as she recalled the night of the wolf gathering, when she had followed Varg into the forest with the intent of seducing him, only to find him sitting beneath some trees that had strange, dilapidated wooden structures built into their branches.

"I see, well, he's still got terrible taste. Old friend, or no, a human is still a lousy choice for a Wolfmother, even if you are an alpha bitch."

"Am I?" asked Halea.

"Aren't you an alpha amongst your own people?"

Halea let out a nervous laugh, her eyes drifting to the side at the uncomfortable question. "Yeah, we don't really do things that way, and I haven't always been so strong-willed. When I was a kid my strange powers frightened many of my own kind; they knew I was blessed, but they couldn't understand why I had so little control over my own strength. I was dangerous because I was young and untrained and not yet a real priestess. But that all changed when I grew up and took the oath, and for the first time regular humans showed me respect. I was finally with others who were blessed just like me, and I was a decent priestess. I made friends and was even chosen to lead missions. Then I gave it all up to be with Varg. I don't regret my decision, but it hasn't been easy. It feels wrong for me to try and assume authority over a people that aren't my own, people who don't trust or like me because I'm a human, but I can't back down now. Varg deserves a Wolfmother who is worthy to be his mate, and I don't care how many of you mangy wolves I have to fight to prove that my place is by his side; I won't give up."

Halea was still trying to unravel the mystery of what being an alpha truly meant. Were alphas born, or could someone become a great leader through sheer willpower? Varg had always had the qualities of a great leader; he was confident, charismatic, brave, respected, and protective of others. For him, being a leader came naturally. She had always admired and even secretly envied how easily he earned respect and adoration. Everything that she was, she had fought to become, but many seemed to recognize that there was the spirit of an alpha within her. Varg had insisted she had always had the will of a true alpha, but she suspected it was he who brought out the confidence that she would have never found on her own. Whatever it means to have the true will of an alpha, she couldn't help but believe that, while some were born with such strength, others could grow to obtain it through trial, responsibility, hard work, and if nothing else, sheer stubbornness.

Lycans learned and adhered to a strict social pecking order even from a very early age, and those who would grow to have alpha-like qualities were easy to identify even from birth. Some lycans that possessed these natural traits would spend their entire lives as nothing more than betas, even though they had alpha qualities, and some betas could rise to power over those who had better leadership qualities because strength through combat was still the deciding factor for who would rise to power. The weak could never reign.

Otsana's eyes narrowed as she struggled to accept the idea Halea was not an alpha by nature. Though the human woman had her questionable moments of weakness, overall she exuded an undeniable sense of power and control, and it was hard to believe that there was ever a time when this dominant female was anything less. The fact that such ability could be learned was unsettling. Some could grow to obtain such powerful wills, but it was uncommon among lycans. "Few can just pass for an alpha without having been born with the will of a leader. I wonder if a stupid human like you can even begin to appreciate what you have."

"What do you want? You're not lacking for male attention. You could have any one of those guys who was trying to impress you today. At least you belong here; I'm an outsider; I always will be. You don't love Varg! You never did. Why is it so important for you to have an alpha for a mate?"

"Because this is my pack! And I will never submit to a beta! Never! Maybe you're too stupid of a human to get it, but unless I mate with an alpha, I will lose everything. I am my parents only cub, if something happens to them, who do you think gets this pack? Fenris? That asshole? He's not an alpha! He thinks he is, but he's not! He's not a leader. He doesn't have the will of an alpha, a true alpha, but because he is the strongest male warrior among us after my father, someday everything could be his. Do you think I want to submit to the likes of him? At least if I had mated an alpha, I could have shared the leadership of his pack, and if I had won the heart of the Wolf King, I could have kept my pack too, but you had to exist! You had to come along and ruin everything! You don't even understand how powerful you are. You don't have to submit to anyone, except Varg. There would be no shame in submitting to a true alpha like him, but to lower myself before a beta is a fate worse than death because I am an alpha, a true alpha! I deserve to be mated with another alpha. I deserve to be the leader of this pack someday. It's mine!" she shouted as she shook with emotion.

Otsana didn't want to believe that Fenris could ever have what it takes to be an alpha, but deep down, she feared that like Halea, he could overcome his weaknesses and faults, and eventually become a true leader. If so, he was a threat, and that thought frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

In the face of Otsana's outrage; she could only stare in shock. She had never seen the she-wolf look so vulnerable, so hurt, and so desperate. Despite all the walls she had built up against the female lycan, pity seeped into her heart.

"Can't you just fight him for it?"

"Fight him? Look at me! I'm even shorter than you! Fenris, despite being a beta, is lethal, and he wants this pack, and mark my words, he's willing to kill for it. I would never stand a chance against him in combat, I'm a woman!"

"So?"

"So?" shouted Otsana. "Why don't you get it? Mating was my only chance. I can't become an alpha by combat, it's just not possible!"

"That's a lot of horse shit. It's been done before, hasn't it? Batsuba, our healer, told me so. Yeah, it doesn't happen often, and it hasn't happened in a long time, but it's not impossible."

"And how could I defeat Fenris in a battle when I couldn't even defeat you, a worthless human? You don't even have any claws or fangs, and you defeated me!"

"I also defeated Rafe, a male, an alpha male no less. I mean, I used a knife and some purification, and he did nearly kill me, but I still won. If I can defeat a much larger opponent, I don't see why you couldn't. I've seen you fight, you have skill, but you're just so damn angry all the time, I think it makes you do dumb things."

Otsana glared at Halea for her harsh statement.

"My father taught me to fight, and he taught me well, but I guess it wasn't enough to go up against some bitch who's been trained by dragons and wizards and our very own Wolf King."

Halea couldn't suppress a laugh. "Cleric, my grandfather was a cleric, but yes, I do have the benefit of being more thoroughly trained, but it's not too late for you. Your parents are immortal, they could live for ages, well, if the Chaos doesn't kill us all first. I don't see why you can't just learn to be a better fighter. You could have lots of time to improve. If submitting to a beta is a fate worse than death, then the least you can do is try. What would you have to lose?"

"And how, do you propose, I just up and learn to be a better fighter?"

"Look, I don't know how long we're going to be here, but even if it's for a short while, I can show you a few things. Even a few fighting techniques not common to lycans would give you an edge over an opponent, that and getting a grip on your temper."

"Why would you help me?"

"Well, it sure as hell isn't because I like you! You're such a bitch, and I don't mean that in the female lycan way. Still, you did save my life yesterday. That demon would have killed me for sure, and it's not like I want to owe you any favors. Perhaps if you can someday become an alpha in your own right, you'll quit complaining about how I stole Varg out from under your nose."

Otsana had many reservations about Halea's proposal, but she also had very few options otherwise. Reluctantly she nodded her head. "Fine; you can try if you want, but you're just wasting your time anyway."

"Probably," Halea agreed. "Now, shut up and let's fight."

* * *

Varg's sword was torn from his hand, and he growled in frustration, as again, he was at the mercy of the Swordmaster's blade.

"How much longer must we keep doing this?"

"Don't take it so badly, you've shown some improvement, you're still terrible at this, but an improved terrible," offered Corbin as he sheathed his sword while Varg went to fetch his weapon.

"I take it your mate survived yesterday's demon encounter?" Corbin casually asked. There had been no time for discussion earlier, as the Swordmaster had immediately attacked Varg upon his arrival and they had been sparring ever since.

"How did you..."

"I told you. I saw it. Or, rather, the gods saw fit to show me. I have no say in the matter, the visions come when they come, but they never come without reason. Your mate is very powerful; perhaps you should fight this battle together."

Corbin's words were sharper than his blade. Halea had asked the same thing from him, but he could feel the stubborn beast inside roaring in protest. "I'll think about it," he finally relented.

"Well, that's enough rest. Let's get back to it, shall we?" And again, Corbin had drawn his sword with such speed that Varg was soon doing all that he could to defend himself from the relentless crow.

They fought for hours, but Varg could never come close to winning even a single match, and he was doing everything he could to control his frustration.

"Go on; do your worst, Varg. I dare you."

Something inside Varg snapped at the crow's taunt, and he raised the Fang, bringing the sword down with such force that it released a blast of energy that shook the mountainside and created a blinding light. When at last the dust settled, Corbin stood within the wake of the destruction, Abaddon held forth. The force of the blast hadn't even touched him but had gone around him on both sides as if his sword had deflected the attack.

"You survived!"

"Disappointed?" Corbin asked, as she dusted himself off and shook out his hair. "Abaddon is a divine weapon, a sword of true destruction," he explained as he approached Varg. "Would you like to see it?"

"I've seen it," replied Varg as the reflective eyes of the crow gleamed before him.

"No, you haven't," replied Corbin who stretched out his hand towards Varg's face. Varg wanted to pull back, but something was hypnotizing about the crow's eyes, and he couldn't look away as he felt the cold fingers of death's servant upon his brow.

The world faded in and out of focus before his eyes, and suddenly he was looking down from a mountain peak. A war raged blow, and two mighty forces clashed on a field of blood; humans, and therians. He could hear the screams of pain and smell the stench of death. Somehow he knew; this was an event long before his time, back when the gods held more sway over their creations.

In his hand, glittered the sword of destruction, Abaddon, and he watched as the blade came down with a force that sent a mighty cloud rising into the air, and every tree was burnt asunder, every living creature blown to ash. He watched as the bodies furthest out in the distance wailed in horror, only for their flesh to be torn from their bones, and for what little of them that remained to scatter across the fields of war - ashes in the wind. When at last there was silence, only the echo of the wind and the scent of charred bodies remained. Everything was gone.

The world spun before his eyes, and again, Varg was standing in Corbin's eyrie. A sickness gripped him, and he wanted to be violently ill, but he suppressed it. He could sense Halea's concern across their bond.

"You saw that day through my eyes; the day the gods had had enough of the wars between their children and their creations. It was I, who was the deliverer of death that day. Only when the gods call upon me, will I unleash the true power of this weapon. Thankfully, those times have been few and far between. My sword is a sword of death. It exists to scorch the earth clean. Yours is the sword of protection, a sword of the earth, bound to serve the living. May I?" he asked as he held out his thin hand. Varg placed the Fang in Corbin's grasp and watched as the crow raised the blade high, and to his utter amazement, when the crow dropped the sword, it unleashed the full force of its power, shaking the earth and tearing a massive gash into the mountainside.

"That's impossible; only the Wolf King can wield the true power of the Fang!"

"Yes and no. A holy weapon can only be wielded by one who has won the god's favor. When you defeated your opponent and won the right to be king, the gods chose you, they favored you, and as the rightful Wolf King, they blessed you with the Strength of the Divine. There are few alive who possess such favor from the gods, and I am one of them. It is only because of that divine power that I possess the ability to wield Abaddon, without it, it would be only a simple blade. With this gift, I can wield any holy weapon, even yours, and you can wield mine. Would you like to give it a try?"

"No. Hell, no!"

Corbin chuckled at Varg's mortified outburst. "A good answer. The gods wouldn't have given you that power if you were the type to abuse it. It's a safe way to ensure that the true power of these weapons never falls into the wrong hands. Abaddon will never have another master than I. The gods have shown me this, so take comfort; my services of destruction are not needed, at least not at the moment. My hands are more than full with my duties of collecting the souls of the dead and helping you. I'm forfeiting my daytime sleep for your behalf, so I hope you appreciate what I'm doing for you."

"Why would you show this to me?"

"You came here to learn. Did you learn something new today?"

"I suppose so," Varg conceded, though he couldn't help but feel that he was happier not having to know the true nature of the underworld's sword. The horrific vision he had seen would haunt him for the rest of his days.

"Good, you're excused early today. I must sleep before the coming of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : You'll have to read next chapter to find out if Rufus can find Samesa. So Fenris is competition, eh? We've always known Otsana has had a lust for power, but now we know why. Yes, she's always had these motivations, though they were never meant to be revealed until here in book 2. She's still a cranky bitch though. I wonder if she'll ever really come around? Hmm. It would seem that Abaddon is one scary ass sword, and I would not want to get on Corbin's bad side. And, yes, I can hear the wheels of theories and speculations turning in your heads. MWAHAHAHA.
> 
> Some of you may be happy to know that Lord Anshar is in the next chapter, and he is deliciously angsty in all his sexy emo boy glory. You're welcome! :)
> 
> Aaaaand in final news, I kinda had to go back and make more major edits to the first chapter. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please remember this is an early 1st draft and I really want to make sure it's perfect. It's just that I didn't feel that I did a convincing enough job of conveying Lord Anshar and the Voice in the Chaos's motivations. While it's easy to just say Lord Anshar is crackers and that's why he's a soulless killing machine now, I also don't think that's enough of an excuse. I really believe a good antagonist's motivations must be believable. I didn't like how easily he obeyed the voice. I wanted to make the voice more compelling and its persuasion more convincing. You don't have to go back and re-read all of chapter one if you don't want to; for your convenience here are the two added/majorly re-written paragraphs that are most important. Both are dialog from "The Voice."  
> -  
>  _You will never be free. You will always be alone because you fight the inevitable. In the beginning, there was only one dimension, but the gods tore the universe asunder to make worlds and realms of their own desires. Now the dimensions are many, but it was never meant to be so. These demons only exist because they are born of the chaos that happens when the true balance of the convergence is denied. Even their most abundant swarms could be wiped out in an instant if only the universe could be returned to its original state of existence. Their entire evil race eradicated. The convergence must be allowed to fulfill its purpose. The universe must be healed. All the darkness, pain, death, and destruction can be brought to an end if only these shattered dimensions can be reunited. Everything would be as it should be, as it should have always been, but you will not let it be so. Why do you resist?_  
>  -  
>  _It is time for the world to be reborn. Tiamet does not want to let go of her creation, she does not want a world remade without her, a world that does not need her or her servants, or a people who do not worship her. She and the other gods who tampered with the natural order of the universe are the ones who wrought this Chaos. And for this, she would let you spend an eternity alone - a slave._  
>  -  
> Hopefully, that makes the voice more convincing and maybe explains both antagonist's actions/motivations a little better, and also spreads more bread-crumbs for this book and the next one. Is the Voice lying? Is it telling the truth? Partial-truth? Twisting the truth? Well, that may not all be revealed for quite a while yet, but it's a little something to theorize on.
> 
> Thank you for being understanding and for being such great readers! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, or hey, tell me your theories. Not saying I'll reveal anything, but I like hearing my reader's speculations on the story.


	24. Reaching Out

Samesa struggled to light a fire with her cold, stiff fingers, and she cursed her lack of skill with the basic elemental spells. It was a dangerous choice, if Lord Anshar was out there hunting, it could lead him straight to her, but it was still daylight, and she only intended to keep it lit long enough to warm herself and to have at least one hot meal. To her, it was worth the risk; she couldn't stand another moment of the harsh cold.

The northern lands had always seemed cold to her, even in the summer, and she spent many a bitter night, huddled up with only the memories of her homeland to keep her warm.

It was a place where there was delicious hot sand beneath her bare feet and a bright sun that always shined even in the winter. She thought about her motherland a lot while she roamed in solitude. There was always a lot of time to think; to remember.

She remembered the night that changed her life forever. The night a tear opened, and demons spilled out and ravaged her village. Her parents, her younger brother, even her dear sweet grandmother, torn apart and devoured before her eyes. She tried to save them, but the servants of Chaos were too many, and she was only a little girl. She had always been the strange one of her village; the child who ran faster than the scorching winds, who was stronger than an ox, and who could make light with her hands. No one knew why she was the way she was; only that she was surely destined for greater things. When the demons attacked she had been severely injured, leaving her with no choice but to run for her life. She ran into the endless stretches of dunes with all her speed, as fire consumed the huts of her people and the sparks rose up to the starlit heavens.

She wandered in agony for three days until thirst drove her mad with visions of her family crying out for her, of terrifying things following her through the dunes, and of an oasis that was always just out of her reach. Her wound festered, and fever gripped her until at last, she collapsed into the sand.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a strange woman in red, with skin so pale she looked like one of the dead, and for a while, she was convinced she had died and gone into the land of spirits. But the strange woman spoke to her in words she didn't understand and offered her water, and it was then that she discovered her wound had been treated.

The white woman in red fed her, cared for her injury, and offered her kind smiles so that she would not be afraid. It was difficult to communicate at first, but in time she learned some of the strange words, enough to discover that the woman in red's name was Rena and that she came from a very faraway place. After much difficulty, Samesa was able to communicate with her and explain who she was, and that she was all alone, and that her people were gone, to which the woman seemed most sympathetic. When her wound finally healed, she was able to stretch, and run, and Rena was awed by her inhuman speed and fell to her knees as if in prayer, but to what deity Samesa didn't know.

With nowhere else to go Samesa followed her new companion who didn't seem at all put out by her presence. If anything, Rena seemed thrilled to have found her, and Samesa wondered if it had to do with her strange abilities.

For many months they traveled together into the north, and Samesa learned even more of the woman's language. At last, they arrived in a strange land where trees were so numerous their leaves blocked out the sky, and she encountered more white-faced people than she ever could have imagined existed.

In time she learned that Rena was a cleric, and that she prayed to a dragon goddess called Tiamet, and that it was her duty to roam the land hunting the servants of Chaos and searching for those who were blessed. By the grace of Tiamet, Samesa had been guided into the safe hands of one her followers, where she learned the truth of her power, and most importantly, that she had been chosen to fight against the very force of evil that had stolen away everything she loved.

Samesa was taken to the Citadel of the Sun, where she met many more clerics, and even the priestesses in white, many of whom were also from faraway lands just like her. She was taught to speak, read, and write in both the common northern language, and in the ancient one, and because of her youth, it came naturally to her until barely any trace remained of the accent of her native tongue. Rena trained her in the ways of Tiamet and taught her how to fight, and Samesa was more than willing to learn.

Fighting the servants of Chaos gave her life purpose. She had seen first-hand the devastation that such creatures brought upon their world, and whether through the will of the Goddess, or her own, the lust for vengeance filled her. The Goddess had blessed her and spared her life, and she would use that life to bring peace and order to their world.

Being a priestess was a lonely and often thankless existence, but she would not trade it for anything. She loved being a priestess, and while she was devastated to learn that Rena had passed away due to illness when she had been away on a mission, she knew her mentor was proud of what she had become.

Many priestesses struggled with the heavy price of their immortality; some longing for the home and hearth that came with things like love and family, but these distractions were never for Samesa. The wilds were her home, the campfire, her hearth, her love was for her Goddess, and her family was her fellow devotees. She needed nothing else.

She looked up from her failed attempt at starting a fire when she heard the sound of a falcon crying on the wind.

"Hey, Rufus, I'm over here!" she shouted as she watched him glide off beyond the western trees. She quickly threw her belongings into her travel bag and ran off after the bird.

It was unusual for him not to notice her, but perhaps he wasn't searching for her. In the off chance that he was carrying a message intended for her, she decided to pursue a while in the hopes that maybe if he landed, she could catch up. It had been days she had heard any news and she was dying to know what was happening and if everyone was still okay.

She ran through the trees but skidded to a halt as she noticed something up ahead - a campfire.

" _Maybe that message was for another priestess. That means someone else is out here!_ " she thought with a leap of hope, but despite her excitement, she still approached with caution.

When she peered into the clearing, her heart sank. It wasn't a priestess or cleric, as she had hoped, but some strange man, perhaps a traveler, but he appeared to be very casually dressed and for all that she could tell he was all alone.

" _This is weird. There are no roads nearby. Why would he be out in the wilds all alone? He's not dressed like a ranger,_ " she thought.

"Come closer and share the fire," the strange man called, causing Samesa to nearly jump out of her skin. How did he know that she was there watching him?

"I won't bite. I promise," he said in an accent that was both foreign and familiar.

Samesa was afraid of no ordinary man; she was a powerful and armed priestess after all, so with no further reservations she approached.

"I apologize for appearing so rude; it's just that I didn't expect to find anyone way out here in the middle of nowhere. Are you lost?"

"Me? No, I'm fine, just heading to the coast. The roads seem less safe than the wilds these days, and I'm quite at home out here. Though, it is a little nippy. Please, feel free to warm yourself. You must be freezing."

He appeared harmless enough. Though he was sitting, she could tell he was tall and slenderly built. He had fair skin and wavy brown hair that framed a youthful, long, thin face, but there was something strange about his eyes - they were so large. His eyes were black and shining, and they seemed to be taking in everything around them all at once. While unusual, there was something undeniably attractive about him.

He smiled encouragingly at her, and she couldn't help but decide that such a kind face must belong to a trustworthy person and so she joined him by the fire.

"Thank you. It is cold today. I'm Samesa," she introduced as she relished in the exquisite warmth of the crackling fire; her fingers and toes feeling instant relief.

"That's a lovely and unusual name for a lovely and unusual lady. I take it by those robes that you're a priestess of Tiamet? I've met a few priestesses in my time," he replied with an alluring smile.

"Yes, I was actually following a falcon when I happened on your camp," she explained, but suddenly it occurred to her that this stranger appeared to be traveling without any gear, not even a travel bag.

"Oh, yes, I saw it. When it passed overhead, it dropped this. Was this for you?" he asked as he held out a small piece of folded parchment.

Samesa regarded him with a scrutinizing glare.

"It's alright. I promise I didn't open it."

She hastily snatched it from his outstretched hand and unfolded the message. What she read within made her sick to her stomach. At the bottom of Kalee's original message was a hastily added post scriptum from Mama Dragon.

_I cannot leave the lycan lands. Find them! Warn every priestess that you can. Rufus will try to hunt the ravens and kill them before the messages can spread._

"Is everything okay?" asked the man.

"Yes. Everything is fine, thank you," she quickly replied. It wasn't any of his business. She wasn't entirely willing to trust that he hadn't already looked at the message, but with such shocking news, surely he'd of had some sort of reaction if he had. Learning that the great Dragon Lord was turning on his own people should have been enough to make anyone fearful, but the strange man seemed entirely unperturbed. But, that didn't mean that he couldn't still know and be up to something.

She no longer had a good feeling about remaining alone with this stranger. Something felt off.

"Thank you for the warmth of your fire, but it would seem I need to get going. I have business elsewhere," she said as she got up to leave.

"Wait! Please. I wanted to give you something. Something else, I mean."

Samesa wasn't so sure she liked the sound of that, but she curiously turned back to see that he had risen and was fishing for something in one of his pockets.

"Here, I found this. It's beautiful, don't you think?"

To her surprise, within his open palm, a small stone gleamed with flecks of green and orange that seemed to shine like fire.

"I found it down by the river. I have to admit, I'm a sucker for anything shiny, but if you want it, you can have it. It's a present!"

A strange sense of familiarity wavered like a mirage at the back of her mind.

"That's kind of you, but you don't have to give me anything."

"If you won't accept it as a gift; perhaps you will take it in exchange?" he asked.

"Exchange for what?"

"A smile. It's lonely out here you see, and you have such a lovely face. Won't you smile just once for me?"

She didn't mean to comply, but there was something about the sincerity of his words, and the hopeful look in his large dark eyes that drew an undeniable response from her, and a laugh accompanied her bright smile.

"Wow, you're smooth. Do you talk to all women like that?" she asked as she held out her hand and received his gift.

"No. Only you, Samesa," he replied, and the look in his eyes was one of pure joy, and she could see a red blush creeping up his neck.

"Well, thank you again for the fire, and the pretty stone. I promise I'll take good care of it, and I wish you the best on your journey."

"It's I, who am grateful. I hope someday to see you again."

Samesa tucked the stone into her travel bag, and with one last farewell nod, she turned to leave, but stopped short after just a few steps and quickly turned back.

"You didn't tell me your...name..."

But the fire had gone out, and the mysterious man had vanished.

* * *

The next week had become somewhat of a routine for them. Every morning Varg would set out to train with the Swordmaster, and every night he would come home with new cuts and frustrated with his lack of progress. With every passing day, he felt more and more anxious. While the falcon never came, a runner had arrived to deliver news that tears and demons were still plaguing the western territory in his absence. The priestess still remained and was working tirelessly to help them eliminate the dangers, but it felt wrong for him not to be there when his people were in need. With every day that passed his concern for his pack weighed more heavily upon him, but nothing he did seemed to make a difference to the crow. He had not yet proven his worth, and his instincts were warning him that time was running out.

Halea had spent that time doing combat training with Otsana and occasionally joining demon hunts, though she felt every bit as anxious about how long they had been away as Varg. She hadn't heard a word from Mama Dragon, but she had a hard time believing that nothing was happening. Somehow the silence was more troubling than any news could have been, but there was nothing they could do until Varg proved his worth to the Swordmaster. They couldn't return empty-handed, everyone was counting on them. With every passing day Varg grew more silent and withdrawn as the crushing weight of his anxiety, and his responsibilities as an alpha weighed down on him. Halea comforted him as best as she could, but she had no answers to the mystery that he needed to solve and the only thing she could offer him was her unwavering love and support.

"Again," Halea instructed.

"We've done this technique all morning, can't we try another one?" whined Otsana as she rubbed her sore wrist from where Halea had just wrenched it.

"Not until you master the water-dragon moves. You'd be fine if you just calmed down a little."

"Calm? It's a fight! This is stupid! You've just been wasting my time all week. So what if I learn some fancy new moves made by dragons? Fenris is still bigger and stronger than me, and every bit as fast."

"You can use his strength and momentum against him if you would only put away that stubborn wolf aggression. Perhaps flipping out and going into a blood rage works sometimes, but keeping a cool head and being as flexible as water would allow you to think more clearly. Perhaps you should pray?"

"Pray?" asked Otsana with an incredulous look on her face. "Yeah, I'm going to need all the prayers I can get."

"When my mind is troubled, or if I'm feeling tense, I find that having a few quiet moments of reflection can be very soothing. I ask Tiamet to guide me, give me strength, and to help me defeat my enemies. I know she's not your goddess, but wouldn't the wolf gods listen to you if you were in need?"

"If the wolf gods were truly merciful, I wouldn't have been born an alpha in a woman's body," the she-wolf grumbled.

"Well, maybe they have plans for you? It wouldn't hurt to try, and couldn't your wrist use a break?"

"It feels like you already broke it."

Halea just shook her head in frustration. Otsana had potential; she had learned quite a few of the specialized techniques she had shown her and even managed to win a few matches and deliver some brutal hits which she had to explain away to Varg upon his return at night. But, the she-wolf fought with too much anger. She never planned her moves or studied her opponent, it was as if she wanted to rely purely on her instinct, but instinct wasn't going to be enough. She needed to learn to fight smarter and with more self-control.

"Just try it!" Halea snapped as she walked over to a fallen tree and dusted off a patch of snow. "Sit!"

"Don't talk to me like I'm some lowly cur!"

Halea fixed the irate she-wolf with a piercing and unwavering glare until at last Otsana lowered her eyes in submission and went to sit down in a huff.

"I'm not even sure which god to call upon. Leto might sympathize with me because I'm a female, and she is a hunter, but..."

"Pray to Radulf; he is the wise one isn't he?" Halea suggested. She had some base knowledge of the wolf god pantheon from her many lessons with Batsuba, though Varg had also occasionally brought them up in discussion.

Otsana nodded her head in agreement and closed her eyes while Halea walked off to give her some privacy and space. She didn't wander too far and stayed within earshot.

She paced in the light snowfall to help maintain her warmth as she waited, and waited, occasionally looking back to make sure Otsana was still there, but the female lycan hadn't moved.

" _Guess she had a lot to say after all...or she fell asleep._ "

Halea watched as the cloud-covered sun shifted above, but still, Otsana had not moved, and she was very tempted to go and shake her. But, this had been her idea, and maybe the she-wolf had gone on some sort of spiritual journey. At last, she looked over and found Otsana had opened her eyes.

There was a serenity about her, unlike any Halea had ever experienced from the female lycan who was usually always surrounded by such a negative aura. Her eyes seemed glazed as she stared down into the snow.

"Do you feel any better?" asked Halea as the cautiously approached.

Otsana only silently nodded before finally looking up.

Halea felt an itch of curiosity, but as someone who was devout in her own faith, she knew it would be wrong to pry. Whatever clarity Otsana gained by communing with her god could be quite personal, and it was up to her when, or if, she would ever speak of it.

"Do you want to go back to the den?"

"No. Can we try that technique one more time, please?"

Halea stared in stunned silence for a moment. She had never heard so much as a single polite word from the female lycan, and it came as a bit of a shock.

"Sure. Yeah," Halea eventually replied and moved back as Otsana got up and joined her in the small clearing where they had been sparring earlier.

Halea made the first move with a sharp jab that Otsana quickly dodged. The movements started slowly a first as Halea tested Otsana's ability to perform the water-dragon technique which involved a series of complicated strikes and counterstrikes interspersed with low-sweeping kicks. To her pleasure, Otsana performed every maneuver of the technique with precision and finesse, putting up every appropriate block, and adjusting to anticipate every modification Halea made to the attacks.

A fierce left hook to Halea's face ended their match, and despite her discomfort, she couldn't resist smiling as they stood together struggling to catch their breaths.

"Now, that's what I wanted to see!" she praised.

"Thanks," Otsana replied, turning her eyes to avoid embarrassment.

* * *

The sea. Beautiful. Calming. The sun glittered across the waters, and the waves crashed upon the rocks below, but today it brought him no comfort. There was so much blood, so many terrified eyes, pleading eyes, begging for mercy, begging for salvation, begging for hope, and he had killed every one of them, betraying their trust and sacrificing them without mercy.

Except for _her_.

And as if summoned he heard her approach and sighed as he felt her warm arms encircle him from behind.

"What have I done?" he asked.

"You saved us all. It had to be done, there was no other way, but the world is better now."

He turned so that he could return her embrace and her beautiful hazel green eyes glittered from the fading western sun. Her eyes were so kind, and his heart swelled to know that she was finally his. At last, they were free. She no longer had to die, and he no longer had to kill. Ages of chaos, destruction, and torment, finally nothing more than a memory of the past.

"I took so many lives...so many."

She reached up and caressed his cheek and smiled sweetly and he couldn't resist placing his hand over hers and relishing in the gentle warmth of her touch.

"It's over now. You'll never have to kill again."

And just like that, the pain was gone, and his soul was alight as the truth of her words healed him as nothing else could.

"Will you stay with me...forever?"

Tears of joy welled within her eyes as she smiled and nodded. He gently tilted her face upward and tasted her warm, soft lips.

Darkness. Terror. Screaming into the void. Pain.

_Remake the world._

Anshar's eyes flew open as he gasped for air and nearly overturned his chair as he rose.

"Stop torturing me, please," he begged, but there was no one there. He was alone in his study. The stench of blood was all around him, despite Maven's best attempts to clean it up. A week had gone by, but no other priestesses had arrived at the castle, and he suspected they had been discovered. Maven kept watch over the castle to keep him hidden, but no one else was falling into their trap, and he was growing impatient.

" _Where is she?_ " he thought.

Painful memories resurfaced only to taunt him.

That wolf!

She was with him. Somewhere. But where? The lycan territories were vast, heavily guarded, and undoubtedly she would conceal her scent to elude him just like all the others.

And then there was the constant interference of the voice.

"I want to see her. Why won't you let me find her?" he shouted as he grabbed his chair and threw it against the wall where it shattered to pieces with a loud crash.

He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands as he trembled uncontrollably.

"I can't do this...I can't."

He was met with only silence, and he couldn't stand it another moment. He jumped to his feet and threw open the door.

"Maven!" he shouted down the hall.

She arrived remarkably fast, and he suspected she must have heard the earlier crash, but he didn't care.

"Yes, Lord Anshar," she said with a quick bow, concern and a hint of fear present in her dark eyes.

"Summon Uro to the castle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Bout time we got some decent backstory on Samesa. I wonder who that mystery man was? Hmmm? It appears Lord Anshar is as crackers as ever and having some very strange dreams. What is he going to do to Halea's grandfather? Hold onto your butts because this story is going to be full-throttle until the end. MWAHAHAHA
> 
> I've been having a lot of problems in life lately, just a lot of stress and upcoming chaos. My husband and I are probably going to be moving out of the desert in the next 1-2 months and I'm going to try really hard not to let this get in the way of my writing. I'm several chapters ahead. I wanted to have book 2 finished by the end of July, but then a whole lot of bad shit happened and it kind of threw a wrench in my ability to write as much as I wanted. I haven't missed a scheduled chapter post since I started this series, and I don't want to now, so hopefully, I can stay ahead and not let you guys down. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and read this story all the way up to this point. You guys are amazing and every time I hear from you, it really brightens my day, so if you can, please let me know what you think of the latest chapter.


	25. High Stakes

Late in the night, the candles had burnt down to only nubs, but still, Uro worked tirelessly on his maps. With every new report of tear activity, he grew more and more anxious.

They were running out of time.

Kalee had burst into his home a week ago to announce that Lord Anshar had returned to the castle, and with Maven's help, they were sending messages to lure the priestesses out of hiding. Together they had agreed that there was no other option but to send a messenger raven to the one priestess that could be easily found. The others had to be warned.

He had learned from Kalee that Halea was somewhere far in the east working on some vague plan with her shifter husband, that if successful, should help them. He had no idea what they could do in their hopeless situation, but it appeared that despite breaking her oath, the Goddess still seemed to be watching over his granddaughter, and that thought brought him some small measure of comfort. If nothing else, at the moment, she was far away from their current danger.

Kalee also warned the other clerics, including Favion, and together they had worked tirelessly to keep as many devotees away from the castle as possible, but it was only a matter of time before they would be discovered and punished for their interference.

After conferring on the latest reports and demon sightings, he sent Able, Codeon, and Edmond to Westvear earlier that day. They would monitor the stability of the barriers around the open tear on their way, but they were not as adept at spells of subjection as he was. He would begin making preparations to follow after them the next day because due to his advanced age and declining health, he couldn't make the journey on foot and would have to travel by carriage.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes when he heard a knock at the door.

It had to be important for someone to come calling at this time of night, and he rose with a protest from his aching joints, expecting to open the door and find Favion or Kalee.

Instead, he found High Priestess Maven.

"High Priestess, what brings you at this time of night?" he asked in a calm voice as he held the door ajar while struggling not to shiver as a chilly blast of air entered and pierced through his cleric's robes.

Parked on the street behind her stood a waiting carriage.

"Forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, Master Uro. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," he offered and begrudgingly opened the door. "Let me make you a hot cup of tea."

Maven silently entered his home, her eyes scanning all around her as she followed him into his kitchen. He was alone.

Uro's elderly heart slightly ached as it beat at the speed of a bird in flight, but he struggled to ignore it as he opened his cupboards and began pulling out his tea service. Maven said nothing as she stood behind him, but he could feel the burn of her eyes upon him as he worked in the kitchen.

His staff, carved with holy runes, was out of reach in the next room.

"I take it there must be an urgent matter for you to come so late?" he asked as he began digging through drawers, pretending to look for clean teaspoons, but in fact, he was searching for one of his hidden spare daggers. Halea had always mocked him for keeping emergency weapons stashed around the house when she was a girl, doubting that any harm would ever befall him in his own home. It was a strange time to feel vindicated for his paranoid ways.

Still standing, Maven waited on the threshold of the kitchen. "I've received some urgent messages from the capital. In fact, I'm sorry for troubling you, but I'll have to have tea some other time. I'd like it if you returned with me. There are some new tear reports, and I'll need your advice with the charts."

"It cannot wait until morning?" he asked, finding the dagger hidden behind the biscuit tin and slowly attempting to slide it into his sleeve while pretended to reach for biscuits.

"An urgent reply is needed. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. I won't be going!" replied Uro as he spun and threw the dagger, but to his horror Maven used her priestess speed and caught the weapon mid-air, grabbing it by the blade and slicing her hand open.

She threw the dagger aside in fury and sprang forward. He tried to put the table between them, but she threw it aside, smashing the tea service to pieces. She was too fast and strong for him, and he was quickly pinned to the wall with a wet cloth that smelled of ether shoved over his nose and mouth. His heart hammered painfully in his chest as everything faded away.

* * *

The next day Kalee intercepted several clerics traveling on the main road that led into Antherose. Favion had been mortified to learn the news of Lord Anshar's return, but for days he had been helping her by patrolling the roads and city outskirts, warning off any devotees who dared to approach. Thankfully, they had only encountered clerics returning from missions, and that gave her hope that her message had reached Mama Dragon.

"It will be safer for you to head to Westvear, but if you have any reports to make to Master Uro I can deliver them on your behalf," Kalee had explained to a frightened pair of clerics. She also warned them that if they saw any other clerics or priestesses making their way towards Antherose to warn them away. They delivered into her hands the latest maps of demon attacks and tear locations, before turning into the north and leaving Antherose behind.

She felt sorry to send them away just as the last rays of the sun were fading on the horizon. Those poor clerics had been on the road for days and were probably looking forward to a warm fire, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed for the night, but it was better to camp in the bitter cold of the wilderness for a little longer than risk their lives by coming too close to the castle.

Able seemed convinced that Lord Anshar's primary interest was only in taking the lives of the priestesses, and that he meant no harm to the clerics unless they provoked him, but Kalee wanted to take no chances. If Lord Anshar or High Priestess Maven learned that everyone was onto their deception, there could be swift retaliation. In fact, there wasn't a moment that went by that she wasn't terrified that the Dragon Lord would swoop down on her and end her life for foiling their plans. She had given Maven plenty of cause to be suspicious of her, and she doubted the High Priestess believed her when she said she was leaving the city, even though she had done her best to lay low and avoid the castle since her discovery. She had seen many ravens flying out of Antherose, but none had returned, and to the best of her knowledge, no one else had fallen into their trap.

Favion had begged her to leave Antherose for her own protection and leave warning off the devotees to him, but she had refused. She was Mama Dragon's last contact in the city, and she at least wanted to wait until she received word from her fellow priestess before abandoning her post.

She hadn't checked in with Master Uro in a few days, but she thought it best for him to have the latest reports from the passing clerics before he set out for Westvear. He would probably be leaving on the first carriage traveling north in the morning, and she wanted him to have as much information as possible before his journey.

Pulling up the hood of her cloak, she quickly moved along the streets of the city while trying to avoid drawing attention to herself, until at last, she reached the door of Master Uro's home. There didn't appear to be any lights in the house, and she worried he might have already gone to bed to be well rested and get an early start on his journey the next day. She nearly turned back, but a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach made her approach the door.

She raised her fist to knock but stopped short.

The door was slightly ajar.

Her heart froze for just a moment before it began beating at a speed that made her head swim. Sweat trickled down her back despite the biting cold, and with a trembling hand, she slowly pushed the door open while readying her spear.

"Master Uro, it's me, Kalee," she timidly called at the dark threshold.

No answer.

She took a few cautious steps into the senior cleric's home and noticed how cold it was. He wouldn't have left so soon without saying anything, nor would the elderly cleric tolerate the embers to ever entirely go out in his fireplace.

Everything was wrong.

She called upon her power, and her spear glowed with the white light of Tiamet and illumined the room.

"Master Uro?" she called again, but in a voice barely above a whisper as she made her way into the kitchen and gasped at the wreckage before her.

The table was smashed and overturned with the broken shards of his tea service scattered all over the room, and small spatters of blood on the floor. Suddenly she heard a door slam shut behind her and she spun around to notice a dark figure looming in the shadows. Before she could scream, the form leaped out of the darkness and seized her by the throat causing her spear to clatter to the floor with a ringing metallic sound and casting her into almost total darkness except for the faintest glow of moonlight which shone through the kitchen curtains.

"Where is she?" growled a deep and familiar voice as the fist tightened around her throat, lifting her and causing her feet to flail above the floor. She tried to kick with all her might, but her leg was caught mid-air and wrenched painfully causing her to release a strangled scream.

"I know what you're doing, but it's over. I want Halea, now where is she?" he demanded, and amidst the tears of pain and fear she noticed the pale silver hair and glowing eyes that morphed into an unsettling serpentine shape. He loosened his grip on her throat only just enough to let her speak.

"Kill me if you want. I won't betray my friends," Kalee challenged.

"She's hiding somewhere among the wolves. You know where she is, don't you? Your interference has caused the disappearance of all our ravens, so you're going to be my messenger isntead. You will find her and summon her to the castle."

"She'll never come!" she shouted before his grip tightened again, silencing her protest.

"Uro is locked in the dungeon beneath the castle. If she ever wants to see her grandfather again, she'll come. And you, you're going to bring her to me, or I'll take everything from you."

Terror welled up within her, but she was forced to speak the truth as he slackened his grip.

"I have nothing."

"Oh? Is there no one here that you care for?"

Her heart lurched at his cruel words. It was known among the devotees that she had a living great-grand-niece within the city. But Joanie had lived a long and full life, and as much as it hurt her to think of losing her only remaining relative, even without Lord Anshar's threats, her remaining days were few.

"Do you think I haven't already accepted the inevitable death of my only remaining kin? Time is crueler than you could ever be!"

"You're right," he replied. "But there is one yet who still may have a life ahead of him. Even as we speak, he's keeping Uro company in the dungeons. Tell me, should I make your cleric lover suffer before I kill him?"

She cursed Maven for betraying the deepest secrets of her heart. She so desperately wanted to deny it, but it would be a lie, and she knew it, and if she dared to say even a single word, Lord Anshar would know it too.

Her body went slack in defeat.

* * *

Several more days passed, and Rufus had managed to hunt quite a few of the messenger ravens sent from the castle. He would periodically return to the lycan lands to report his kills to Mama Dragon, but this plan wouldn't work forever. Lord Anshar would inevitably figure out that they were working against him and he would find a new way to end their lives.

Mama Dragon hadn't received any further messages from Kalee, and she was extremely worried. Rufus knew better than to hunt the ravens that were coming into the lycan lands, tempted though he might have been. It was time for her to send a message to Kalee to flee the city while there was still time; if it wasn't already too late.

The sun had just risen, but it offered little warmth as heavier snows had finally come to the western lycan territory. She huddled in front of the fire in the temporary tree-dwelling she had been given, trying to finish her morning cup of tea and compose a message before setting out on another demon hunt. The lycans had taken pity on her due to the severity of the cold and allowed her to stay in one of the empty tree-dwellings that happened to be situated the furthest from their den.

The lycan warriors who accompanied her on her demon hunts had been standoffish at first, but she had managed to build somewhat of a camaraderie with them over the past few weeks. To her surprise, their healer particularly seemed to take an interest in her. Apparently, Halea had told the strange white-haired she-wolf about her knowledge with the healing arts that she had learned in her home country. The old healer was especially interested in learning about foreign pharmacopeia, and apparently, this was her first opportunity to converse with someone who came from another land across the sea that had any knowledge of the subject.

Like clockwork, she heard the soft sounds of footsteps coming up the spiral stairs, and she poured a second cup of tea as Batsuba entered the dwelling without so much as a knock.

She learned that dropping in for regular unannounced visits was common among the lycans, and it had been a little hard for her to get used to it at first.

"I've brought you another batch. It's lucky I hoard as many dried herbs as I do or your kind would be out of luck," said the old healer as she handed Mama Dragon a full container of scent masking potion.

"Thank you. I'm sure we'll need all you can give us. I don't think my fellow priestesses had much time to gather and dry ingredients before this cold weather set in."

"If we come up short, I can send a runner to collect more from the southern territory. They don't get such harsh winters and can gather herbs nearly all year round."

"I hope they don't mind," said Mama Dragon.

"The southern healer is a good friend of mine, though their new alpha might be a pain to deal with."

Hearing who had won the right to be the new southern alpha had caused quite a buzz among the western pack, and when a runner had been sent into the east, Batsuba, despite Lyall's protests, had insisted the messenger not discuss the new southern alpha with Varg. She wanted to wait until his return. Varg had more than enough to deal with as it was, and such news could wait.

As Mama Dragon and Batsuba chatted over their tea, a howl rang out in the distance.

"Someone is coming," said Batsuba as her dark eyes turned to the west.

Mama Dragon had grown somewhat familiar with the way lycans communicated through howling, especially when announcing danger.

"It's a priestess," Batsuba explained, and Mama Dragon quickly sprang up and ran down the stairs.

Noticing the commotion, Rufus flew down from his perch high in the branches of Mama Dragon's tree-dwelling and alighted on her gloved forearm which she offered as she ran.

Far in the distance she could make out the approaching shapes of a group of people, and one of them was in the unmistakable white robes of a priestess, the others appeared to be the lycan sentries that had discovered her and were escorting her towards the den. Batsuba had come out as well, as she was also curious about what would bring another priestess into their territory unbidden. With Varg and Halea away in the east, Lyall managed the hunts, but it was she who had been acting as stand-in alpha, a role that she was more than capable of fulfilling.

"Kalee? What's happened?" asked Mama Dragon the moment the other priestess approached, and she could see the distress on the redhead's face.

"Oh, Mama Dragon!" cried Kalee as she leaped into her arms and began to weep.

Batsuba gave the sentries a sharp nod of dismissal, and they took off without argument.

"Kalee, what is it? Are you hurt?" asked Mama Dragon

"He knows! He knows everything! The only reason he spared my life is so he could force me to find Halea and tell her to return to the castle or he'll kill Master Uro. I tried to fight him, but he threatened to kill Favion too if I didn't find her."

"Where are Master Uro and Favion?"

"Captured and locked away in the dungeons. He's serious, I know it. He'll destroy them both if Halea doesn't return, but he'll kill her if she goes to him."

Batsuba snorted in derision. "I wouldn't worry about that. If all he wanted was an easy priestess to find and kill, why not you? He's in love with her, and he thinks he can lure her away from Varg and the pack. Still, Halea and Varg must know what's happening."

Despite her initial shock at the she-wolf's revelation, Kalee had no trouble believing it. While Lord Anshar had always outwardly appeared stoic and cold, it was also evident to most that he had shown Halea some favoritism, if only for the fact that he had offered to train her, which was an honor that no other priestess could boast. It also made sense that because of such affection, he couldn't bear to sacrifice Halea during the last convergence.

"But weren't they seeking help in the east? Wouldn't they have returned by now if their mission has been successful?" asked Mama Dragon.

"He was supposed to find the Swordmaster," explained Batsuba, who had avoided going into details earlier. If their plan should fail, she didn't want to get any hopes up. "Learning how to control the Great Fang, the divine weapon of the Wolf King, was his only chance to fight against the dragon, but we're out of time. Do you think your bird can find them? Has he ever flown into the far east?"

To everyone's shock, Rufus flapped his wings and jumped down from Mama Dragon's arm only to transform.

"With your help, I can find the way!" he proclaimed.

Kalee gasped, and Batsuba's eyes widened. It certainly wasn't every day that the old healer received such a surprise.

"I thought there was something strange about you," Batsuba said as she crossed her arms over her chest in irritation. She hated being deceived.

Kalee stood frozen, her mouth gaping in stunned silence. She could scarcely believe that a therian had been among them for all the years she had known Mama Dragon. She had so many questions, but this was neither the time nor the place.

Mama Dragon only sighed and shook her head. For decades he had been her most precious kept secret; now it was over.

But Rufus was not a child, and this was his choice.

"Forgive me; hiding my true nature was necessary for many years as my kind aren't welcome among humans. But I'm not among humans right now, at least, not mostly, and, well, the world is coming to an end I suppose. I'm tired of hiding. I can help. Just tell me how to get there."

Mama Dragon wouldn't know the way; she had never gone very far into the east. If he didn't ask one of the lycans for directions, he would have to search for the eastern den by making several sweeping passes far and wide, which could take many precious days that they couldn't afford to spare.

Batsuba decided to relinquish some of her anger in light of their desperate situation, and borrowing ink and parchment that Kalee offered from her travel bag, she quickly drew Rufus a map and explained the way through the mountains.

"I can't believe it, this whole time," said Kalee as she watched Rufus fold up the map and stuff it into one of his pockets. "Samesa will be so surprised when she finds out!"

"No!" he practically shouted. "Please. Don't say anything to her. Not yet. I...I want to be the one to tell her...someday...when I'm ready."

"Rufus, you can't..." Mama Dragon started.

"I know. I know. Forgive me. It's just...there's so little time."

Kalee nodded in understanding as she watched the exchange between Mama Dragon and the strange young man. Mama Dragon certainly had some explaining to do, but for now, she was grateful for any help they could get. If they didn't come up with a plan, or Halea didn't return to Antherose, Favion would die, and priestess or not, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

"Your secret is safe," Kalee offered.

"You don't have to worry about me, but don't let Varg kill you," said Batsuba who had no intention of interfering in what her instincts warned her was some sort of a private disagreement between the priestess and the bird therian. If this human woman, known for her motherly nature, willingly hid a therian from her own kind for many years to protect him, she must care for him like a son. Theirs was a curious relationship indeed.

"Thank you," he said as shifted into his falcon form and took off into the air.

* * *

Varg wiped the blood from his brow before it could drip into his eyes.

Corbin waited patiently as the alpha struggled again with his anger. A less skilled swordsman could have easily taken one of his eyes, but he had been sure to leave only a shallow wound.

"This can't go on," Varg said in a low and defeated tone as he sheathed his sword. Several more days had passed since the crow had shown him the horrific power of Abaddon, and still, he was no closer to winning a match. "I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what to do that I haven't already done. You said it yourself; I can't learn to wield a sword properly in such a short amount of time. I'm no better than before I came to you."

"That's not true," argued Corbin. "Typical narrow-minded alpha mentality; you only count your victories in wins and losses, as if there's nothing in-between. Even if you had years of proper swordsman training, you wouldn't stand a chance of beating me. Winning a match isn't the point. That's not why you're here."

"If I can't beat you, I can't beat the dragon! Don't you understand what's at stake?"

The Swordmaster only sighed and shook his head regretfully.

"You're too blind to see how much you've improved since coming here. Your form is much better; you're lighter on your feet, and your strikes are more calculated. You've done an admirable job at containing your wolf, difficult though I know that's been, and whether you believe it or not, subduing your inner beast has allowed you to fight with more efficiency. Tell me, Varg, what does winning mean to you? What exactly _is_ at stake?"

"My mate. My pack. The lives of the priestesses who stand between us and the Dimension of Chaos. Perhaps the entire world as we know it."

"And if you defeated the Dragon, if you killed him, what will happen then?"

Varg was growing frustrated as he struggled to contain his anger at what, on the surface, seemed to be such a stupid question.

"Think about it, Varg. Really think about it. The wolf in you fights for your mate and your pack, but killing Anshar will not solve anything. With the Dragon Lord gone there will be no one to seal away the next convergence and mark my words, it will come again. I have seen it. What will become of your mate then? Your pack? Our world? You will have saved her life for a few days, maybe a few years, only to lose everything in the end anyway. How is that a solution?"

"And do you have a better idea?" he growled.

"Perhaps Anshar does deserve to die for his crimes, but that is not for me to say. His fate is up to the gods, not you."

"And what? Let him live? How is that going to solve anything? He's chosen to betray everyone for his own selfish desires. He won't banish the convergence again, even if he is allowed to live. All he'll do is spread more death and try to come between my mate and me. If nothing else, I can keep her out of his hands."

"And what does your mate want?"

"We want the same thing; we want to be together."

"Her heart may belong to you, but the Dragon Goddess still holds sway over her soul. Priestess or not, she is still blessed, and she still has her part to play. The fate of our world isn't up to you alone. The choices you two make together can make the difference between our salvation and our utter annihilation. Is killing the Dragon really what she wants?"

Varg felt a moment of shame when he realized he didn't really have an answer for that question. He had never stopped to think about what his actions were costing his mate. He had always just assumed that she didn't want him fighting the Dragon because she was frightened for his life, but perhaps there was more? He grew quiet as he reached out across the bond he shared with Halea.

Her adrenaline was high. Excitement. Pride. And hope.

He knew somewhere she was training with Otsana, feeling the thrill and joy of a sparring match and taking pleasure in helping someone. Halea was always happiest when she was helping others. He sensed many of the same emotions from her when she was learning medicine from Batsuba and treating the members of their pack, and when she was hunting demons and sealing tears. All the things that gave her life meaning. Halea wanted to help people. His beloved Alpha Bitch. A true Wolfmother despite any of her doubts. The depth of compassion in her heart knew no bounds, and it had always been one of the many qualities she possessed that caused him to fall helplessly in love with her. She was his light, his comfort, his home, his past, and his future.

The future.

Was there hope for the future? He knew she was reluctant to start a family with him because she was afraid there was no future, but despite her concerns, he could sense that deep down, she didn't really want to give up. She wanted hope, and he had wanted to be the one to give it to her. He wanted to shelter her and keep her safe so that she wouldn't have to worry or be frightened anymore. He wanted to make her believe that he could protect her from anything, but she knew the truth, that there were some things even he couldn't protect her from; no matter how hard he tried.

"Halea wants to help people. It's just her way. Perhaps she doesn't want me to kill the Dragon, perhaps she wants to hope he can still be saved, but if there is no other way, I know she is strong enough to do whatever it takes to save our world. The most important thing to her is that she doesn't want me to face the Dragon alone. I suppose whatever happens after that is up to the gods."

Corbin's reflective black eyes swirled as the corner of his lips rose ever so slightly. "And would you surrender yourself to the will of the gods?"

"Yes," Varg consented with a nod.

"Then I will take you to them."

Varg regarded the crow with surprise and confusion as he approached and extended his pale and boney hand.

"I hope your mate will forgive me for what I'm about to do, but I'm afraid I must take your soul," the Swordmaster said as he gently placed his fingers against Varg's temple and the Wolf King died as he fell upon the earth.

* * *

Halea reached up and caught Otsana's foot just before it made contact with her face and gave it a sharp yank causing the she-wolf to drop with a frustrated growl. Otsana was quickly up again and making a series of fast strikes that Halea dodged with ease. A smug smile donned her face as she admired the fact that Otsana was slowly gaining mastery over yet another technique.

Halea had always loved sparring. She and Varg had grown up learning to fight from each other and practicing every chance they could get, and she missed those moments they had once shared, as since being mated, he completely abhorred the idea of ever harming her, even on accident. While Otsana was often still surly and quick-tempered, it was hard to stay angry as she helped the she-wolf gain new confidence and skills. Her improvements were noticeable, and Halea felt the sort of pride she imagined her grandfather must have once felt when he trained her as a girl.

Otsana moved back to adjust her stance, and as Halea waited for the first move, something struck her with a force that elicited a gasp from her.

Everything stopped.

Something shattered. Something was gone. Taken. Her soul suddenly ripped asunder.

Otsana watched, perplexed, as Halea dropped to her knees and gripped her head in her hands, her body trembling all over, as suddenly the human woman let out a piercing scream.

"Varg! He's gone!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Aaaaand he's dead. Sorry. -Lord Anshar swoops in and flies off with Halea. Happily ever after. The end.-
> 
> Okay. Okay. Not really. Well, not quite. Calm down, everyone! I swear it's going to be okay, ya just gotta hang on until next chapter to see what happens. I promise I will get you through this.
> 
> To be fair, I warned you all to hold onto your butts.
> 
> I'm almost afraid to ask everyone for their comments/feedback after this chapter, but sure, I'd still love to hear from you guys. Just please be gentle.
> 
> Also, I am currently moving. I was doing really good at staying ahead, and I am still a few chapters ahead of what I've posted now, but I'm still three chapters away from finishing book 2, I've just had to slow back on writing because of moving. I HATE moving and the next month and a half are going to be a super busy nightmare, but I'm going to do my best to make sure I don't miss any posting deadlines though I may have to take a break for a month or so between the end of posting book 2 and the beginning of posting book 3 as due to the move, I'm not going to have the opportunity to get as far ahead in the writing as I'd like and I'd rather take a short break between books then have an inconsistent posting schedule for book 3.


	26. Wolf Gods

He was rising through the clouds, and the world was spreading out below him. Black feathers obscured his vision until there was nothing left, only a dark void, and in this void, he felt weightless, and a part of him was aware that he was floating in a place where he had never been before.

"Where am I?" he asked before he felt his soul pulse in the dark as anguish tore through him and somewhere in the darkness he could hear her screams.

"Halea!" he shouted, desperate to reach her, but there was nothing. He was alone, and he could feel her pain, her loss.

"You can't go to her now. I'm sorry," he heard a familiar voice say, and when he turned, he saw a massive crow that loomed in the darkness as if it were one with the shadows. "Time has little meaning here, and you will soon be returned to the land of the living before your end of the bond fades and before the loss of your soul causes any lasting effects to your physical body. Your mate on the other hand...I'm sorry. There is no way for her not to notice this temporary severing of your bond."

"I'm dead?" asked Varg.

"There's no other way for me to bring you before the gods. As the collector of souls, it's within my power to carry you into the afterlife."

"This is the afterlife?"

The gigantic crow blinked its dark eyes before it once again spoke. "We are in the in-between. When someone dies, if they are ready to be judged, this is where they come. From here the gods will decide the fate of their soul. If a soul is worthy, as long as at least one god wants to claim that soul, then it shall be granted access into the heavenly realm, but if the soul is unworthy, if no god comes to claim it, then that soul is cast into the underworld. The underworld is not as many think it is; it's only the absence of existence. Once cast into the underworld a soul shall cease to exist as if it never was and it shall never be again. Many are not ready to die; they don't want to be judged, perhaps because they fear they've lived an unworthy life and no god will come to claim them. One can't wait in the in-between for long. Once a soul comes to this place, the decision must be made, unless, as in your case, they're still connected to the mortal realm."

"What happens to those who don't want to be judged?"

"Their souls will wander the earth, lost, confused, and in a perpetual state of consciousness that lingers between dream and reality - a never-ending nightmare. Wandering souls are not happy, but they refuse to let go of the mortal realm because they fear the beyond, the unknown, or perhaps because they're not ready to die and they can't accept that they are no longer one of the living. That is where I come in. It's my duty as the son of Morigan to wander the night, searching the world for these lost souls. There are those who grow weary of wandering, and, sooner or later, they long to move on to the next plane of existence. It's my job to carry these lost souls into the afterlife."

"How are you able to speak in that form?"

Varg could hear the familiar chuckle of the Swordmaster. "That's hardly a question for here and now, but if you must know, in this realm, there is no physicality, we are only spirits that resemble the image our true forms. Look into my eyes, and you'll see."

The crow lowered its massive head, and Varg beheld its wide reflective eyes, and within, he saw a wolf.

But this wolf was not quite his corporeal form; it was translucent and glowed softly within the dark void, yet he recognized it as himself nonetheless.

"Come, they're waiting," Corbin spoke as he drew away from Varg.

"What about Halea?"

"Trust in the gods," the crow said as he voice faded into the void, and suddenly Varg was alone.

In the distance, he could make out a speck of light, and to his wonder, it began to grow. The light pulsed, and glittered, more vibrant than a sun, yet it didn't hurt his eyes to look into it. As it grew, he became engulfed within the light and strange forms, large and imposing, hovered before him.

He was in the presence of the wolf gods.

He quickly bowed his head and averted his eyes in submission.

They spoke to him without words, asking him why he had come before them, and somehow he knew, there was nothing he could offer but himself.

"I submit before you mighty wolf gods. I am your vessel, and if you deem me worthy, I will serve your will upon the mortal realm."

Power and presence unlike any he had ever known weighed upon him, seeing through him, into his heart, his soul. He was being judged.

A benevolent light passed through him, shaking him to the core. Something had changed within him. Something inexplicable had happened to his soul.

Their light flowed through him, and it was loving and warm. The lycans were their children, and he their power within the mortal realm, the chosen defender of his people.

He had been given a new strength.

Varg opened his eyes and took a deep gasp of air as his heart pounded violently within his chest. Above him was a sky of blue and stark branches that swayed in the icy winds.

A pale and familiar face appeared above him and leaned over to examine him.

"You're back. Well, how do you feel?" Corbin asked as he offered Varg his hand and helped pull him up from the frozen ground.

His vision shifted in and out of focus as he struggled against a feeling of lightheadedness, but he managed to stand upright.

The Swordmaster watched as Varg fought to regain his senses. It wasn't every day that someone came back from the dead, and he could tell by the light in Varg's eyes that the gods had deemed him worthy.

"Halea!" he finally spoke. He could sense her through their bond as firmly as if it had never been severed, but her emotions were a whirlwind of fear, sadness, relief, anger, joy, desperation, concern, panic, and most importantly, love. He closed his eyes as he reached through their connection, trying to convey emotions that would let her know that he was okay, that he was sorry for frightening her, but no amount of soothing could calm her. His trip into the afterlife had left her a broken emotional wreck.

"I need to go to her. By the gods, she thinks I died!"

"You did die. I killed you, remember?" Corbin reminded with a sarcastic smirk. "She can wait. I'm sure she can tell you're alive now, and I am truly sorry for what that must have put her through, but there really was no other way. So, how do you feel?"

Despite his mate's distressed state, he forced himself to focus once again on the Swordmaster who stood patiently waiting before him.

"I can't describe it in words; what I felt, what they did to me, but I know it inside, I feel it with as much surety and strength as my own instincts. I possess knowledge now...it's..." he struggled to explain, but instead, he unsheathed his sword.

Corbin watched as Varg entered a fighting stance, and for the first time in ages, a thrill of excitement came alive within him. His thin lips curved into a wicked grin as he drew Abaddon and in a flash, he lunged at his opponent.

Varg effortlessly parried Corbin's attack and for the first time shifted from defense into offense. Every strike was precise, fast, and deadly. Every moment, calculated, confident, and skilled. Corbin's eyes gleamed in excitement as the lycan moved against him with the true brutal force of an experienced and worthy swordsman.

For Varg, every movement felt natural, instinctual, as if he had always known how to fight with a weapon, and he could feel the will of the wolf gods flowing through him, giving him strength and power, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

They fought for hours, panting until sweat poured down their faces, and even their therian muscles, usually so impervious to the strain of physical exertion, were screaming in protest, but still, they continued to fight.

The sun sank beyond the western horizon, and at last Corbin forced them to a halt.

"Enough! You are more than ready," Corbin conceded between gasps for air.

Varg wanted to keep going, he wanted to win, but at last, he realized; if the gods wanted him to win, he would win. It was only through their will that he could achieve victory.

"The gods have given you this gift. Use it wisely, for they can also take it away. Now it's time for you to return to your homeland, but don't forget, you must..."

Corbin froze before he finished speaking, his eyes peeling wide, his body going unnaturally ridged. Varg watched in horrified confusion as the Swordmaster's eyes rolled into the back of his head, leaving only visible whites before his body collapsed and began convulsing upon the ground.

Varg rushed to his side and grasped Corbin's shoulders to hold him steady as he continued to writhe and foam at the mouth as his jaw clenched until every muscle in his thin face and neck was taut.

And then it stopped.

Corbin gasped for air, his eyes rolling back into place, his body still slightly twitching as every muscle fell slack.

"What the hell was that?" asked Varg.

"A vision. The gods have shown me the future," Corbin answered as he struggled to sit up.

"What did you see?"

"Death."

"Whose death? Who did you see?" Varg growled.

"Halea will die," he said as he looked Varg firmly in the eyes. "I don't know when. I don't know exactly how, but she will die. I'm sorry, Varg, there's nothing you can do."

Varg balled his hands into fists that shook with anger that caused the red to seep into the edges of his eyes. Perhaps Corbin hadn't seen how his mate would die, or when, but he had his suspicions and his hatred for the dragon burned.

"No! That's not true! Do you hear me? It's not! She can't die! I won't allow it. I will see that dragon dead first before I ever let him or anything else take my mate from me. What have I come here for? What does any of this matter if she has to die? You have to be wrong!"

"Varg, you have to understand, the gods don't make mistakes. I have never in all my ages had a false vision. Everything they have ever shown me has come to fruition. If it is her fate to die, then it is your fate to follow her, but the gods are not done with either of you yet. They wouldn't have given you such power and knowledge if there wasn't still a fight ahead of you, the both of you. There could be many years yet before this prophecy is fulfilled, but you can't let this knowledge change the path you must follow. The gods have chosen you. You offered to serve them, and you will, but you're not going to do it alone. She is with you. Your mate is bound to you, and her place is by your side. It's what I was trying to tell you; if you're going to defeat the dragon, save your pack, protect this world, you two need to fight as one, because I have also seen that your greatest strength lies in each other."

Varg struggled to fight back his inner beast that was howling with rage and pain. He didn't want to think of a world without her, but there wouldn't be, not for him. There was no future for him without her. He had given himself as a vessel to the wolf gods; he couldn't take it back now. He would protect all that he loved. He would fight for his pack, and his world, but the day he would lose his mate, would be the day he would leave it all behind because he wanted nothing without her.

"I can only pray this prophecy does not come to pass for a long, long time, but no matter what happens, Varg, you can't tell her."

"How can I not tell her? What if her last moments are soon?"

"No, Varg, that vision was a message for you and you alone. If you truly want to protect her, you will spare her the pain of knowing of this prophecy. Let her enjoy every day that you two share. Let her have hope."

"Why would the gods want me to know such ill tidings? Why would they choose me to fight for them, only to tell me they will take that which I love most?"

"Even I don't know the will of the gods, but I'm sure, in time, you will understand. Now go, she needs you, and you should be with her."

As Varg was leaving the crow's eyrie, he stopped and looked back one last time as Corbin nodded to him in farewell. With a deep breath, he tried his best to steel his nerves, before shifting into his wolf form and running off into the night.

* * *

She curled into a ball in the freezing snow as she struggled to breathe against the ever-tightening pain in her chest.

Gone.

Varg was gone.

"No. No, this can't be. What happened? I can't feel him! I can't feel him through our bond," she wailed.

"Did he block you out?" asked Otsana, who though not mated had at least some general idea of what bonds were like. The bond between her parents was so powerful they barely needed words to communicate.

"This isn't like that," Halea tried to explain as she sobbed uncontrollably. She and Varg had blocked their bond before, but even though the block drowned out most things, it could not entirely mask the sensation of their connection to each other. Even when not sharing their emotions; there was always an invisible touch linking their two souls, and now it was gone.

Otsana watched in shock and confusion. How? How could Varg be dead? Who could be so powerful that they could kill their Wolf King? Was it demons? Were they all in danger? She reached down and roughly pulled Halea to her feet and shook her in an attempt to bring her to her senses, but it was like the light had gone out of her eyes.

The pain was more than Halea could take; it was as if her soul was damaged beyond repair, her heart collapsing, the world was spinning, and then everything went numb all at once. Her tears stopped. Nothing mattered. Nothing.

And then it was as if someone had pulled her up from drowning. His soul - she could feel it once more.

Halea's eyes grew wide, and she clutched her chest as if her heart had only just learned how to beat.

"I feel him! I feel him, he's alive!" she cried, and new tears flowed from her eyes as her relief nearly weakened her knees and if not for Otsana holding her up she would have fainted into the snow.

Otsana didn't know what to make of the situation, and she began pulling Halea back towards the den.

Halea allowed the she-wolf to lead her without complaint as she struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Varg was alive, but she knew without a doubt, that only a moment ago, he hadn't been. She could sense regret and concern from her mate as he tried to soothe her, but she couldn't hold back the anger and fear of what just happened. Why had he died? What happened? Was he really okay? She wanted to see him again, and she did her best to convey her sense of longing, of her desperate love, but something was distracting him, pulling him away again, and she felt angry and frustrated to be ignored.

" _If he's not dead, I'm going to kill him for putting me through this!_ " she thought.

* * *

It was well after sunset, and Halea paced at the edge of the den where she usually saw Varg off every morning. For once she had refused to eat with the pack, opting to wait for Varg's return outside despite the bitter cold. She could have waited in the king's cave, but she wanted to see him as soon as he returned to the den and not one moment longer would she wait. If not for her promise to never leave the den alone, she would have gone looking for him.

For hours she had sensed his excitement and a feeling of power that slowly ebbed into physical discomfort and exhaustion - and then crippling fear and pain. Something else had happened; she was sure of it. Something had gone wrong.

Since then he had shifted his focus towards her, still trying to calm her through their connection, but underneath his offerings of love and comfort, the fear and pain were still present.

She wanted answers, and she could not rest until she had them.

At last, she heard something moving through the trees, and she caught the glint of glowing eyes reflecting in the moonlight.

"Varg?" she called, as a massive wolf nearly collided with her, transforming in an instant and practically crushing her in his embrace.

"Halea, I'm sorry. I came as quickly as I could," he apologized as felt her trembling in his arms. Her emotions were a tumult of pain, relief, sadness, love, desire, and confusion. A sob of anguish wracked her body as she buried her face in his chest as she released everything that she had been keeping pent up inside and he hated himself for having caused her suffering as her tears soaked his winter pelts. "Shh, shh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm here. I won't leave you."

"You were gone. You were gone, I couldn't feel you anymore," she spoke between gasping sobs.

"I can explain everything. Let's get out of the cold," he said as he scooped her up and ran through the den until they reached the shelter of the king's cave.

Once inside he set her on the edge of their bed and knelt in front of her, removing her gloves and grasping her cold hands and gently rubbing them to bring the warmth back into her stiff fingers.

"I didn't know it was going to happen that way," he started, and Halea patiently listened as he explained his journey into the afterlife, his encounter with the ancient wolf gods, and his discovery that they had blessed him with the knowledge and power to properly wield the Fang.

He could feel her growing calm across their bond as he explained everything, but he could tell that his walk among the dead would forever haunt her.

"I thought I lost you. Oh, Varg, when I couldn't feel you anymore, it was like a part of me died with you. I wasn't whole anymore," she explained as fresh tears trailed down her cheeks and he reached up to gently wipe them from her face.

"Varg, something else happened, didn't it? Something terrible?" she asked.

She watched as he clenched his eyes shut, and the muscles along his throat and jaw constricted in the manner that she was used to seeing when he was angry or frustrated.

"It's just time for us to go home is all. There's nothing else," he forced himself to say, but speaking such untruths did not come naturally to him, and he couldn't meet her eyes as he struggled to mask his emotions.

He wasn't defeated yet. There had to be a way. He didn't want to believe that Halea's fate was sealed and that she couldn't be saved. Prophecy or not, this had to be a test. If not, the gods could be damned if they thought they would ever take her from him. He would fight anything on earth or in heaven to protect her, but he couldn't believe that the will of the gods was so cruel. Surely they were testing him? That had to be it! Why else would they give him mastery over the Fang only to threaten to take the one thing he wanted to save above all else?

A part of him wanted to fall into despair at the Swordmaster's prophecy, but he couldn't allow it. Though she didn't have lycan senses, he knew she could tell that he was lying to her; their bond exposed everything inside of him. He needed to believe he could save her or else she would learn the truth, and no matter what the future held, he could never let the woman he loved suffer. It was his job to give her hope, to protect her, and he would not fail her. He would force himself to not give up - for her sake.

"Something is still worrying you, I can feel it," she insisted.

With desperate need, he silenced her with a kiss before she could argue further. He would forget it. He would push it from his mind, and he would make her feel safe again.

She let him push her back onto the bed as she drowned in the sensation of his overwhelming love, but she knew what he was trying to do. She turned her head, breaking their kiss, her hair falling over her eyes as she struggled to breathe.

"Varg...please. Let me help you."

He stilled at her words, and when she turned her face back to look at him, she could see the conflict in his shimmering blue eyes.

"Halea, you're right. Your place is by my side, and I've been a fool to fight it. I know we can overcome anything if we work together as a team. While I can't help wanting to be the one to protect you, I know when you fight beside me, we're stronger together. Just...please understand, no matter what happens - I won't let you go. If you stay with me, I will fight for you until my last breath. Would you fight for me?"

She tried to blink away the hot tears that were forming in her eyes as she reached up and caressed the side of his face.

"I feel the same way. I would fight for you; die for you, anything just to stay by your side. When you died today, a part of me ached to follow you. If it had gone on for much longer...I'm not sure what I would have done, if I could have gone on alone without you. I don't think I can. I'm frightened of the future. I don't know what's going to happen to us, but no matter what happens, I want to be with you. As long as we stand together, I can believe there's hope. There has to be! Why else would the gods bring us together? We're such an unlikely couple; a mangy wolf and a puny human, yet here we are. I can't believe we weren't meant to be together for a reason."

His chest tightened at her words. She was right. She had to be. He believed it in his heart that the gods brought them together for a reason. Together they could overcome anything. He wouldn't lose her, and she wouldn't lose him either. One way or another, they would survive the storm ahead, and they would share a life together.

"I love you so much, Halea. I'd do anything for you," he confessed before sealing her lips in another passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

Whatever had upset him before had faded at her words, and her heart filled with hope and love. She wouldn't let him down. She would ease the pain in his heart and prove to him that she would never let anything tear them apart again.

They frantically began pulling each other out of their clothes and boots, their hands exploring each other's heated flesh as they tumbled back onto the bed.

Varg could feel his inner beast fighting for supremacy, but not this time, this time he wanted her all for himself. He wanted every moment of her love and warmth to be for him as a man and not as a beast.

He laid back and gently pulled her on top of him and his heart hammered in his chest as she straddled him and slowly slid down over his throbbing heat.

The scent of her arousal was irresistible, and she was so wet and ready for him that he growled in pleasure beneath her. His hands clenched her thighs, preventing her from moving as he took a moment to reign in his basal instinct's need for dominance. Once the red completely receded from his eyes, his grip relaxed, and she slowly began to move up and down his pulsing shaft.

Her slow movements were maddening as he desperately wanted to thrust himself up into her, but he could tell she was enjoying that it was she who was dictating the momentum. Her hands explored his powerful chest and trailed lightly over his abdomen, and he wanted so much more of her touch. She leaned forward, taking him deeper and moaning in pleasure as the adjustment in angle provided the perfect friction. He groaned as she trailed her lips over his burning skin and he couldn't stifle the growl that escaped as her tongue swirled around one of his nipples causing him to bury his hands in her hair.

Seeing him panting beneath her made her insides quiver, and she moved her exploring mouth upwards along his throat. She could tell that he was straining against his inner beast and she decided to be merciful and avoid nibbling his throat and ears. There would be no controlling him if she gave in to that urge. Instead, she captured his lips in a soft and teasing kiss. He opened his mouth hungrily for her, and she could feel his sharp fangs as she delved into his mouth with her searching tongue.

She moved faster against him as his hands explored her, caressing her breasts and slowly moving down to grasp her hips, a silent plea for more. The mounting tension was clouding both their senses as they melded through body and soul. Through the intensity of their empathetic link; every breath, every heartbeat, every taste, and touch, was magnified.

Halea cried out as her insides clenched in exquisite release, and she nearly collapsed as her entire body relaxed, but Varg was not far behind her. He held her hips in place as he pushed upwards and with a series of fast hard strokes he growled as he came inside of her. He held her tightly in his arms as she lay on top of him panting and spent, and he savored every moment. Even when he withdrew himself from her body, he held her close and trailed gentle kisses down the side of her face. He smiled as he watched her slowly fall asleep.

Every moment, every day, was precious. He softly stroked the back of her hand that rested upon his chest, and he could see the rune of contraception painted on her wrist.

The future was not set in stone. Fate had brought them together, and destiny would keep them together. He would give her the future she deserved. There was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Uh oh! Is Halea really going to die, or are the gods just fucking with poor Varg? I hope you noticed the symbolism behind this sex scene, especially in comparison to the previous ones in book 2. While sex scenes are fun (and HOT!) I do try to write them with purpose and not just for gratuitous sexy goodness. At least that's what I tell myself. lol.
> 
> Still in the throes of moving hell. Still haven't finished book 2. I wrote a little since the last update but not as much as I'd like. Even if I have to pull several all-nighters, I promise you guys, I will not be late with any of the uploads scheduled for book 2. I might need a break between book 2 and 3, but I will do everything I can to make sure you get your every-other Friday update. I still have a couple of finished chapters ready to go (well, they need some editing, but essentially ready to go) so hopefully, if things get rough they'll be enough to keep you guys entertained until I finish all this moving business and can hammer out the end of this book.
> 
> So close!
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for your patience and support. Please leave comments/feedback. I love hearing from you guys!


	27. A Plan

When Halea stepped out of the king's cave, the bright morning sun hurt her eyes, and the cold stung her nose. Varg had risen and gone out before she woke, and she knew he was with Ethelwolf. She did one last check to make sure she had all of her belongings in her travel bag before she closed the heavy iron doors to the cave and began walking down the path.

She noticed a lycan running towards her, and she was surprised to see that it was Otsana.

"Varg says you're leaving," the she-wolf announced without so much as a greeting. By now, Halea was used to Otsana's curt and impolite mannerisms. Their time together sparring was not entirely without animosity, but it was at least somewhat of an improvement over their previous relationship. At best, they had come to tolerate each other, or so she thought.

"Yes," Halea replied as she studied the female lycan's face, trying to discern what Otsana was thinking or feeling, but her expression betrayed nothing.

Otsana knew their stay in the eastern pack was temporary. Halea had explained to her that Varg was meeting with the mysterious Swordmaster to learn about the Fang and that once his quest was over, they would be leaving. The return of the demons and tears had brought other complications that she didn't quite understand, and Halea seemed reluctant to discuss them, but she knew something was wrong if anyone was desperate enough to seek out the help of the crow.

"So you wasted my time after all," she grumbled.

"I'd hardly call it a waste; you are much improved. You've picked up some useful techniques, and you're using your head for a change, and considering your brain is hardly your strong point..."

"Hey!" cried Otsana.

Halea scrunched her lips as she tried not to laugh. She had developed a strange sort of pleasure from goading the she-wolf, whose angry reactions never failed to amuse her.

"There is more I could have shown you, but we're out of time. You're not out of time though. If you keep practicing, you'll keep improving. If your pack is really worth fighting for, you won't give up. Well, I guess this is it; good luck," Halea said as she began to walk past Otsana.

There was only silence as Halea continued down the path that led into the den, but if she had looked behind, she might have seen Otsana staring after her.

A large crowd of lycans had gathered below as news of Varg and Halea's departure had spread among the pack, and everyone was offering their farewells. Halea was surprised that when she reached the common area, several lycans approached her and even offered her safe travels and best wishes. A familiar face appeared before her, and she stopped short as Úlfa threw her arms around her.

"Thank you."

"I didn't really do anything," Halea replied when the eastern Wolfmother pulled back to look into her eyes.

"No, you've done a lot. I promise, someday she'll appreciate this. Until that day comes, at least know that I appreciate what you've done."

Halea nodded at the she-wolf's words, but she highly doubted she had been of any real use. Perhaps Otsana would continue to practice and become a better fighter, but the biggest thing holding her back was her lack of faith in her abilities. Only time could tell whether or not Otsana would accept the true power within herself, but there was some small hope. As much as Halea hated to admit it, Otsana did have the will of an alpha bitch, and she could only hope that that would be enough.

Varg and Ethelwolf approached the two women once they were able to separate themselves from the rest of the pack.

"You're leaving us already, Wolfmother? I'm going to be sorry to see you both go," offered Ethelwolf.

"Mostly Varg, though," Halea joked, and to her relief, Ethelwolf smiled.

"I know it's not easy for you here among us, but you've more than proven yourself as a true Wolfmother as far as I'm concerned. Your place is with us now, and you will always have a home among the eastern pack. Varg is like a son to me, and while I was worried at first, I see how happy he is when he's with you, and that's all I need."

"Thank you," Halea replied as she tried not to get choked up at Ethelwolf's kind words.

Varg placed a comforting arm around her shoulders and when she looked up at him; his gentle smile warmed her heart. Maybe she did have a place here among the lycans.

"Hey, look! It's a falcon!" she heard someone exclaim.

"Damn it, I don't have my bow," spoke another.

"No, don't!" cried Halea as she broke away from Varg and separated herself from the rest of the lycans as the bird circled down towards the den.

She held out her arm and winced as the falcon landed with a sharp pinch of its claws, but to her confusion, he wasn't carrying any messages.

"Rufus? Something terrible has happened!" she cried.

She extended her arm to avoid being struck as the bird flapped its wings in agitation. With a flurry of feathers, he leaped into the air, and she gasped as before her eyes he transformed into a man.

"Rufus? I can't believe it; you're a therian!" she cried. All around her she could hear shocked, angry, and confused lycans as they stood back and watched the unfamiliar therian with wary suspicion.

Halea couldn't begin to imagine why Mama Dragon would keep such a secret when she had always behaved as though she didn't like or trust therians.

"I knew it! I knew there was something weird about him!" shouted Varg who quickly stepped between the falcon therian and his mate.

Rufus smirked as his reflective eyes observed the irate lycan. "What? Is this a surprise? You didn't think I was smarter than the average bird?" he mocked.

Varg growled, exposing his fangs, but Halea quickly stepped forward to intervene.

"Please, Varg, something's wrong."

As much as she'd have liked an explanation, if Rufus had been a therian this whole time and was only now revealing himself, something important must have happened.

"I'm sorry for having deceived you for all these years, Halea. Believe me when I say that it was necessary. Please don't be angry with Sophia, she did it to protect me, but the time for secrets is over. I'm here because it's urgent. It's your grandfather; Lord Anshar has captured him and Favion and thrown them into the dungeons of the castle. He sent Kalee to the western territories to find you and bring you back. If you don't go to him, both of their lives could be in danger," explained Rufus.

"That bastard!" growled Varg. "Like I'd let my mate walk into such an obvious trap."

"You're right, Uro's older than dirt and Halea barely visits him anymore anyway, and Favion, well, who cares? Am I right?" Rufus sarcastically replied.

"Stop it you two!" snapped Halea, whose heart was beating frantically in fear.

" _How could he?_ " she thought as she struggled not to cry at the thought of her poor, elderly grandfather trapped and afraid in some dank dungeon. She should have never left him in Antherose. This was all her fault. She had refused to believe that Lord Anshar could ever do such a heinous thing, but this was not the same Lord Anshar she had once known. Now he was a monster.

"I can't just leave him!" she cried.

"Halea, no!" argued Varg.

"I don't think we should give up hope yet. This is undoubtedly him getting desperate. While you've been gone everyone has been foiling his plans at murdering the priestesses left, and right and I think he's just getting careless. He can't possibly believe you'd fall for this. Still, we need to do something to help them. You need to return to the western territory so we can come up with a plan. Sophia, Kalee, and Batsuba are waiting for you both. If we all work together, we can think of something, but we must hurry," Rufus explained as his glittering eyes darted all around.

"We were just about to set out for the west before you got here," replied Varg with a scowl.

"Well, now I feel useless," replied Rufus with a frown.

"We're on our way, but it'll take us a few days. Please fly ahead and let them know we're coming," added Halea.

Rufus nodded his head in agreement and leaped into the air where he shifted into his bird form and took off into the sky.

"Varg, if you need us, my best warriors can accompany you," offered Ethelwolf who had heard the whole exchange.

"Thank you, Ethelwolf. I may take you up on that offer later, but for now, I think Halea and I must face this ourselves. I don't want to get anyone else involved if I can avoid it, it's too dangerous. If things get out of hand, I will call a wolf gathering."

Varg and Halea offered their last farewells and set off for the west. Though Halea was no longer injured as she had been when she set out for the east, their journey would still take several days.

" _Please, Tiamet, don't let him hurt my grandfather_ ," she prayed as they raced through the trees.

* * *

The sound of dripping water was driving him mad, but he didn't know where it was coming from. With a terrible ache in his cold, stiff legs Favion got up off the stone floor of his cell and approached the bars.

"Master Uro?" he called.

No reply.

He had seen Maven drag the unconscious elder cleric into the dungeons and somewhere out of his line of sight he heard iron bars slam shut. When she passed him again, alone, he demanded answers, but he was met with only a quick glance of warning from her cold eyes before she disappeared up the steps and out of the dungeon.

He rubbed his neck and winced when his hand brushed against the tender area where he had been drugged. He wasn't sure if High Priestess Maven had been the one to capture him or Lord Anshar. He didn't have the opportunity to see his assailant. All he remembered was a dark shadow moving fast, a cold hand over his mouth, a stab to the neck, and then everything went black. When he came to, he found himself lying on the cold floor of a windowless dungeon cell.

"Master Uro, are you okay?" he asked again.

To his relief, he heard a groggy groan followed by some shuffling.

"Who's there?"

"Master Uro, it's me! It's Favion. I'm in here too!"

"Favion? Are you hurt? Was it High Priestess Maven?"

"I don't know who it was. It happened so fast; I never had a chance. I think I'm okay. Freezing, but okay. I think it's safe to say; they found out what we were up to."

"I can't say I didn't expect such retribution, or worse. I dread to think why they're keeping us alive," mused the elder cleric.

Favion's stomach clenched in panic. They were alive, but where was Kalee? A wave of sickness forced him to sink back down to the cold stone floor.

" _Kalee, no! Not Kalee!_ " he thought in despair as hot tears burned his eyes.

Uro had come to the same conclusion, but he had no words of comfort for the younger cleric. It was apparent that Maven had been spared due to her unwavering loyalty, but Kalee had openly betrayed the Dragon Lord, and he had little hope that such defiance would be met with mercy.

An uncomfortable heart murmur made him clutch his chest as a worrying thought occurred to him - Halea.

Most of the priestesses had gone into hiding, but Halea was with those shifters, and Lord Anshar must know that she is with them. If he were hunting priestesses, she would be the easiest to find, and perhaps Lord Anshar was using him to lure Halea back to the castle. Why else would the life of an aging cleric have any value? Why not kill him right away for his betrayal? But what about Favion? Why was he spared? He wasn't sure, but he could only hope that his worst fear was wrong. Wherever Halea was, he prayed that she was safe and far, far away from Antherose.

* * *

The first night, Halea refused to stop for sleep. Varg had argued that she should at least get a few hours of rest, but it would have been impossible anyway. She couldn't rest knowing her grandfather was in danger. Traveling in the dark was not a problem for Varg, his powerful vision allowed him to see in the night and he had finally agreed to proceed under the condition that she allowed him to carry her on his back. It was the only rest he could offer her that she would accept, and the nights were too dark for her to follow him on her own as the heavy winter clouds had blocked out what little moonlight and starlight there was.

Once the sun rose, she insisted on running beside him once again, but by the end of their second day of travel, she was losing pace from exhaustion.

"We're stopping for the night," he insisted.

"No, Varg, please! I can keep going."

"No, you can't! I can sense exactly how tired you are. You're not fooling me," he said with finality before disappearing into the trees to find firewood.

She didn't have the strength to argue anymore. He was right. The only breaks they had allowed themselves were when they had stopped long enough to eat a rushed meal. She was hungry, her feet were killing her, her head was pounding, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Running had helped to keep the cold at bay, but the moment they stopped, she could feel the uncomfortable chill of winter piercing deep into her flesh. She huddled on the ground with her cloak clutched tightly around her.

Varg returned carrying wood and a slain fox whose once russet fur had turned white to match the winter environment. Omnivores and carnivores were terrible food, but decent game animals were harder to find in the winter, and he didn't want to take any longer to return than necessary, so he had settled for the fox.

There had been no new snowfall since they set out from the eastern lycan den and the further they traveled west, the less snow they saw on the ground, though it seemed to feel only a little less cold than the higher elevations of the eastern mountains.

Varg was able to quickly start a fire while Halea prepared her evening meal which mostly consisted of dried travel foods that were stewed in a small pot over the fire using melted snow-water. She did accept a little of the fox meat Varg offered her to add to her stew, and she was surprised when even she noticed the gamier flavor; as tired and hungry as she was, she was just grateful for a hot meal, a warm fire, and a chance to rest.

They huddled together in front of the fire, but Halea couldn't sleep. It was still far too cold, and despite the warmth of the crackling flames, and Varg doing his best to hold her close, she began to shiver.

This wouldn't do at all. The cold was hardly a bother for him, but his mate was suffering, and she would never get any rest if she couldn't get warm.

"Lie in front of the fire," he said as he let go of her and stood up. She wasn't sure where he was going at first, but he only took a few steps back before he shifted into his wolf form. She watched him in confusion but he gently pushed her with his muzzle, and without argument, she laid down in front of the fire. He nestled down alongside her, and she noticed that his wolf fur was far thicker and longer than it was the last time she had seen him take this shape. It had never occurred to her that even lycans could have a thicker pelt in the winter, but she was grateful for its added warmth. Varg rested one foreleg over her and curled his tail around her feet. He was far too massive and heavy in his wolf form to lay over her entirely without crushing her, but just being close and letting her nestle into his fur was enough to end her shivering.

"Thank you, Varg. I love you," she said as she buried her face in his fur. He couldn't speak in his wolf form, but she sensed his reciprocation through their bond, and it was the warmth of his love that finally carried her into sleep.

* * *

The sun was setting as Mama Dragon, and Kalee walked back to the three-dwelling where she had been staying since she arrived in the lycan territory. It only took Rufus a day to find Halea with the aid of Batsuba's directions, and another day for him to return and tell her that they were on their way, but the days of waiting since had filled her with anxiety. It was nice having another priestess there to help, but they were still finding demons, though they were weak and bestial. She wondered why the wraiths were not appearing, not even when there were fresh tears. What little they knew of the demon's behavior had changed, and it was unsettling.

She was expecting Halea and Varg to arrive sometime the next day, and she had been considering possible plans of action. Kalee could barely eat or sleep, and Mama Dragon could hear her crying softly in the night.

"I should go and fetch Samesa," Rufus had offered.

"No, with Kalee here with us, they could still be trying to send ravens to lure the priestesses to Antherose, and she's the last of us out there warning them of the danger."

She could tell by the way her adopted son sulked that he was disappointed for reasons other than their immediate situation, but she had to ignore it. No matter how she tried, she couldn't seem to make him understand that she didn't want him to be hurt.

Suddenly she could hear howls ringing out in the distance.

"Does that mean there's danger?" asked Kalee.

Without asking, Rufus flew off towards the den to see what had caused the commotion. It wasn't long before he returned and squawked, indicated for them to follow him into the lycan den.

Hundreds of lycans had swarmed the common area and paid little attention to the human priestesses when they arrived. Many of the hunters had grown used to their scent, and everyone seemed far more interested in greeting the two figures standing within the crowd. It took a moment before they could catch a glimpse of who it was before discovering that it was Varg and Halea.

Batsuba roughly pushed her way through the crowd, elbowing any who didn't move quickly enough.

The sentries posted along their eastern borders had encountered them first, but Varg had asked them to hold off on sounding the notice of their arrival until they were closer to the den. Their early appearance came as a pleasant and welcomed surprise as nobody had been expecting them to show up until the next day.

Everyone greeted Varg with warm embraces and firm pats on the back. Lyall was particularly relieved to see him home as helping to manage the pack in the winter without their alpha, especially during demon attacks, had been particularly stressful for him.

Halea was so happy to see some friendly familiar lycans that she could barely hold back tears as Daciana, Ulrica, and even Ralphina nearly hugged the life out of her. Aatu, Faolan, and Hemming seemed happy to see her and commented on how they missed having her along for demon hunts. She was even glad to see Lyall, though his greeting was curt and formal as per his usual standoffish manner.

"Move over you big ox!" grumbled Batsuba who finally managed to shove past a male that was blocking her way.

Halea smiled to see the elder again. It was hard to believe she could ever miss such a cranky old she-wolf, but the moment Batsuba reached her, Halea threw her arms around her and hugged her.

"Oh, calm down. You act like you haven't seen me in ages," said Batsuba, who squeezed her in return before gently pushing the human woman back.

"It has been ages!" replied Halea. "I've missed everyone here."

"That's because this is your home," Batsuba replied, and something about the way she said it made Halea's heart swell into her throat.

She didn't have long to ruminate before another voice caught her attention.

"Halea!" cried Mama Dragon, as at last the crowd dispersed enough to where she and Kalee could make her way through. Many of the lycans less accustomed to their presence growled or shied away at the unexpected intrusion of the human priestesses in their pack's moment of happy reunion. Mama Dragon paid them no heed as she reached Halea and hugged her in relief and even Kalee was on the verge of crying for joy.

"You're back early," said Mama Dragon. "Praise Tiamet!"

"Rufus told me about my grandfather; we came as quickly as we could. Oh, Mama Dragon, what am I going to do?" Halea asked as suddenly the harsh reality of their predicament dried up her brief moment of happiness.

Varg finally managed to separate himself from the many lycans who had swarmed him in greeting and came to stand by Halea's side. Her sudden return to despair had also soured his joy at returning to his pack. He couldn't be happy if she was suffering and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

"You're exhausted. We can make plans in the morning," he said. They had run at full speed since morning to reach the den by night. She needed a hot meal and a warm bed. He was also a bit tired from their journey, but his first concern was for Halea.

"There's no way I could sleep right now!" she argued.

"Come. Let's all gather in my home. You can warm yourself in front of the fire and have something to eat while we talk, but after that, Varg is right, you should rest. You look dead on your feet," ordered Batsuba.

As soon as Varg, Halea, and the two priestesses reached Batsuba's tree, the old healer threw a few more logs on her dwindling fire and quickly brewed up a relaxation tea for her guests. Batsuba was not at all accustomed to feeding humans, but to her relief, Mama Dragon and Kalee were able to fix a quick meal for themselves and their companion with the dried meats, preserved fruits, and vegetables she kept stored in her home. Varg declined to join them in their meal, the smell of so much cooked food in an enclosed place was very unappetizing, and even Batsuba couldn't help wrinkling her nose.

"Please, tell me everything," Halea asked as she thoughtfully chewed her food.

Kalee squirmed nervously in her seat before explaining everything that had transpired in Antherose since she last saw Halea. Mama Dragon and Batsuba would occasionally interject additional information.

Halea couldn't help but notice that Rufus was missing from their little committee and she wondered if perhaps the falcon felt threatened by Varg. She had many questions about the bird therian, but at that moment, she couldn't focus on anything but the fear she felt for her grandfather. Lord Anshar had locked him and Favion in the dungeons, and she did not doubt that if she didn't go to him, he would harm them both. Her blood curdled and tears leaked from her eyes when she heard the horrific stories of the many devotees Lord Anshar had mercilessly slain. Somehow it didn't surprise her at all that High Priestess Maven would turn against them, but as angry as she was with the senior priestess, a part of her couldn't help being afraid for her as well. It was evident that Lord Anshar was only using her, and once she was no longer needed, she would suffer the same fate as all the rest.

"I...I don't know what to do," Halea softly said, as she stared into Batsuba's fire.

"We can fight him! Now's our chance! I found the crow, and I have learned to master the Fang," Varg said, as a growl rose within his voice.

Batsuba stared in shock; her mouth gaped a moment before she remembered to close it. She had hoped and prayed that Varg would find the help he was seeking, but she also feared that he might come home empty-handed. If the Swordmaster helped him, then he was tested by the gods, and she listened with rapt interest as Varg explained the nature of his quest and the trials he endured. The old healer's heart thundered in her chest as he recounted his experience among the great wolf gods.

"You've seen them? You were among the gods? Varg, a lycan has not stood before the wolf gods in ages, not since before even I was born!" she blurted.

Varg flashed her one of his usual cocky grins, the sort that typically made her want to slap his face, but this time she was not angry, he had earned his victory.

"What? You didn't think I could do it? I said I would," he boasted.

"Don't be irreverent! If the gods have seen fit to select a champion, then we’re in deep shit. This is no laughing matter. They would never give such gifts if we weren't in a dire situation, and you must remember that you offered yourself as their vessel. It is neither by your power, nor your ego that you will obtain victory, but by their will alone."

Varg narrowed his eyes and frowned at the old healer's words. She was right. He hadn't told her the worst of it, the prophecy; he couldn't risk revealing it to Halea, so he remained silent. The gods had chosen him to fight, but they demanded a heavy price. He needed to believe they were still testing him, testing his faith, testing his resolve, his strength, and commitment to fulfilling their wishes. He needed to believe that if he served them well, they wouldn't be so cruel as to take his mate from him. He needed to trust in the gods, and believe, for her.

Halea had turned her eyes from the fire to watch his face as he struggled to extinguish the creeping doubt and crippling fear that threatened to rise to the surface. He placed his hand over hers where it rested in her lap and comfort warmed his soul as she turned her hand palm-up to twine her fingers with his.

He would pass any test the gods required of him for her.

"Does that mean you can beat him?" asked Kalee. She didn't understand lycans at all and knew nothing of their gods or magic swords, but Varg's story seemed impressive, and she knew enough about Tiamet to recognize that no one could stand before a god who wasn't chosen for a higher purpose.

"He may be tough for some wolf, but Lord Anshar still won't be easy to defeat," spoke a familiar male voice. Halea and Varg turned to see Rufus leaning in the window. "Don't mind me. Just listening to everything you say."

"You could come inside if you're going to do that," grumbled Mama Dragon.

"I don't want to be in here with him; he's a jerk!"

Varg growled in response, baring his fangs, and confirming Halea's suspicions. Varg could smell the falcon close by, but the older priestess also usually carried the scent of her nasty bird companion. If he weren't so distracted, he would have heard him outside as well.

"You wait, I'll kill that dragon! Halea is not going to him; that's what he wants, but I'll be damned if he gets his way. We need to draw him out of that city, somewhere where we have the advantage, and that is when I will strike."

"He won't fall for a trap," said Kalee.

"He would if we used the right bait," added Halea.

"No!" Varg roared.

"Varg, you told me we would do this together. This is it! We have to fight him as a team. You need me. Please," she pleaded.

He released her hand as his entire body tensed up and ever muscle grew taut as he fought his inner raging beast. She was right. Together they could overcome anything. She was strong. She had always been strong, and with her by his side, there was nothing they couldn't do.

At last, he took a deep breath, and once again appeared calm before speaking.

"You win. We'll do it your way - together," he finally relented.

Batsuba wasn't sure what shocked her more, the fact that Varg had stood among the gods or the fact that she had just watched her stubborn Wolf King concede to his mate. He must have learned far more on his quest than she could have imagined, but she was glad to see that he was willing to listen to reason and not just instinct.

"It's a start, but I think we need more than just a basic ambush. We should use these," said Mama Dragon as she reached into her travel bag and pulled out a piece of leather which she unrolled to reveal two darts.

"Is that all you have?" asked Halea.

Batsuba picked up one of the darts and sniffed it. There was a scent that was completely foreign.

"Only these two, I'm sorry. The herbs that make this sedative are nowhere on these shores. I've looked everywhere, but the only plants powerful enough to even remotely slow down Lord Anshar grow only in my home country."

"I've never encountered this scent before," confirmed Batsuba.

"The dried herb is potent for a very long time, but the supply I brought with me when I first came to this country, years ago, was limited and this all that remains. I could speak to traders who cross the sea about acquiring more; it's a well-known toxin against therians in my own country, but that would take months, maybe a year before we could get more. We don't have time, so this is what we have."

"It's better than nothing. It was enough to save me the last time. Perhaps if we can slow him down, we can have a chance. You'll have to teach me how to use your blow gun," said Halea.

"No, Halea, let me I'm..." Mama Dragon began to argue, but Varg cut her off.

"You priestesses are staying behind. You'll only be a liability, and there's not much you can do against the dragon. The fact that he so easily keeps killing you all proves that. Halea can learn to shoot the dart, and she is the only bait that will lure the dragon out of the human city. If she can distract him for only for a moment, I can attack, and while I have him preoccupied, she can hit him with one of the darts. He wouldn't stand a chance after that."

Neither Mama Dragon, nor Kalee, liked the idea of being left out of this fight, but he did have a point, they were both helpless against the power of Lord Anshar, and they might only get in the way.

"Halea will need to write a message. Rufus can deliver it to the castle; nobody in Antherose knows that he's a therian, so he'll be safe," offered Mama Dragon.

"Relatively, I mean, they might suspect I was the one eating all their ravens," Rufus chimed in from somewhere outside the window.

"Then you'll have to be extra careful not to get caught," Mama Dragon replied with worry evident on her face.

"But what if he doesn't fall for this? It's so obvious! He would know he's walking into a trap. This can't possibly work," lamented Kalee.

"There's a lot he doesn't know," argued Halea. "He doesn't know that Varg is far more powerful now, or that he knows how to wield the Fang. He doesn't know that I'll have the darts because it was Mama Dragon who shot him the last time, and she's not going to be with us. From his perspective, it would appear like a foolish trap on our part. He'll underestimate us. Lord Anshar has bested us before, and he'll think he can do it again - but he's wrong! This time, we're not going to lose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Do you think Otsana and Halea have finally buried the hatchet? And doesn't everyone just want a cuddle wolf boyfriend to keep them warm at night? Varg and Halea are back in the west and they've got a plan, but will it work? About 4 more chapters to go until book 2 is finished. Dun dun dun.
> 
> I'm still struggling to write/edit because of moving. Next chapter's ready to go and hopefully, I'll have a minute to get some writing done after next week. Yep, still moving.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read the story up to now. You guys are awesome! If you're enjoying the story please please please leave me comments and feedback. I would love to hear from you guys. Even the briefest of messages can brighten my day.


	28. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A Warning From Your Humble Author** : **This chapter brings up the topic of rape in passing. It's brief and doesn't go into graphic details or anything, but I know even the mention of it can be upsetting for some, so I wanted to give you a little heads-up.**

Edmond sat beside Dean in the back garden of Weldison reading a letter Priestess Gwen sent from the capital. Tears were spreading across the kingdom, and no one knew where the priestesses were or why they weren't doing their duty. It was clear the situation was beyond their control. The king and his council had ordered the rangers to be dispatched to help quell the demon numbers. In the face of such devastation, Gwen was forced to confess that Lord Anshar was no longer fit to fulfill his duties and that the devotees of Tiamet had lost most of their worshippers, though she managed to avoid explaining how. Gwen's first mission was still to avoid creating panic at all costs. The council was only aware that Lord Anshar was unwell, and that the recent surge in tears had caused a high death toll among the devoted, who were already fewer in number due to the disaster of the convergence that happened nine years earlier.

Edmond wondered if it would be safe to send a return raven to Priestess Gwen to tell her about the danger waiting in Antherose, but he didn't want to put her at risk; instead, he took comfort in knowing that she was far away in the capital.

Things had only grown worse. Master Uro had never arrived in Westvear, and it was Codeon's and his' greatest fear that he and Kalee had fallen victim to their Lord's warth. He had tried to send a message by raven to Favion, but not even he was responding. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Edmond looked over at Dean who slumped awkwardly in his chair with a glossy look in his eyes. It was cold out, but the sun was bright, and he wanted the young man to get as much fresh air as possible before the winter snows came and he would be forced to stay cooped up within the walls of the asylum. Edmond removed the blanket he had spread over his own lap and stood up, wrapping it around his silent companion for extra warmth before turning back towards the Asylum. It was getting late, and it was time for him to fetch a wheelchair to take his friend back indoors, but that was when he noticed a commotion as several of the nurses dropped what they were doing to run inside.

When he entered the building, he could hear raised voices and the shouting of orders.

"Prepare room 8. Liz, send someone to fetch the healer," shouted the head-nurse.

"Is something wrong?" Edmond asked, to which the nurse gave him an exasperated glance at his interruption.

"One of our nurses just found a woman on the steps. She has Chaos Madness, but someone must have abandoned her, she's in no state to have walked here by herself. She's in terrible condition, bloody feet, half frozen, and undoubtedly malnourished as well. Poor thing, perhaps she fell victim to the madness when that village was destroyed."

"There were no survivors that we found, and the barrier we placed around the tear is wide enough to keep any passersby from looking at it," he argued.

"We'll see more and more patients dumped on our doorstep if these tears continue unchecked," she replied with a sad shake of her head.

* * *

When Halea woke up the next morning, Varg was already up and out tending to the pack. She took a deep breath in resolution as she pulled the ink from her belongings and a scrap of parchment and began to write the message that Rufus would carry to Antherose.

She couldn't help but feel sick the entire time she was writing. They were going to do this. There wasn't any other way.

They had to kill him.

She wiped a tear from her face as she remembered how he had saved her life when she was a young girl, how he had helped to train her, and how he had always shown her and her grandfather so much kindness. She remembered the look in his eyes when he told her to " _be happy_." He meant it. At that moment, she knew he meant it. Maybe he did harbor deeper feelings for her in his heart, but his sacrifice was a selfless one.

But that Lord Anshar was gone.

Dead.

The Lord Anshar that lived now was a monster. A murderer. He no longer cared for her true happiness, or he wouldn't have threatened Varg's life or captured her grandfather. The Lord Anshar she knew hated killing more than anything, but not this beast. This _thing_ that came back from the Chaos was a twisted perversion of the man she once knew and adored, and there was no saving him. It was impossible.

But even after all of his crimes, she still couldn't bring herself to hate him. She had always pitied him, and a part of her still pitied him. He had sacrificed himself to save her, and the Chaos had warped his mind. She couldn't begin to imagine what horrors he must have endured, and his suffering was all because of her. She wiped her eyes as the guilt gnawed her from the inside. With a heavy heart, she finished her message and set down her brush.

A sudden stabbing pain shot through her head and for one brief moment she thought she saw something; golden eyes that wept, but when she blinked and shook herself, it was gone.

The stress and exhaustion were playing tricks on her mind, and she quickly brushed it off.

She threw on her cloak and gloves, grabbed the message, and went out to the common area to find Mama Dragon and Rufus.

Though it was cold, there hadn't yet been much snowfall in the west. A few stubborn dry leaves still clung to some of the trees, and soggy remains of fall foliage littered the ground.

Despite the gloomy landscape, it was nice to be back among the western pack. There were still lycans who acted reserved and distant towards her, but no longer were they disrespectful, and many greeted her with warm smiles and enthusiastic hellos.

" _This really is home, isn't it?_ " she thought.

She made her way to the edge of the den, to the tree where Mama Dragon and Kalee were staying and knocked once she reached the door.

"Come in, Halea," called Mama Dragon.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Kalee is out scouting, and Batsuba never knocks," she replied with a smile. "Also, I've been expecting you. Do you have the message?"

Halea handed the message to Mama Dragon, though she didn't see Rufus anywhere.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Mama Dragon sighed before sitting down by her fire, her face scrunching in discomfort. A long moment of silence passed before she finally spoke.

"Do you think they'd of welcomed a priestess with a shifter for a companion? We only had each other, and I couldn't leave him behind. There wasn't anything in our home country for him either. But now, it's different, I know he still sticks around because he feels sorry for me."

"Sorry for you?"

It was difficult enough for Mama Dragon to explain to Kalee why she had kept Rufus a secret, but Halea deserved to know far more. "You must understand, Halea. I lost everything. Before I became a priestess, I wanted to die because my entire family was gone. Finding Rufus and taking care of him gave me something to live for, but that didn't mean those times weren't still hard. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I found her body, you know? My daughter. She was all I had left after I lost my husband and other children in the wars. She was young, pretty, sweet. She was in love; she was going to be married to a good man. I was so proud of her. One day she and a friend set out to walk to the next village to buy a few last minute things for the wedding, and that's when he found her - a tiger therian. He pretended to be a traveling merchant. Her friend begged her to keep walking, but he was charming, handsome. They lure you in that way. He attacked her..." Mama Dragon paused, her face streaking with tears as she wrestled against the resurfacing pain.

"Her friend was mauled, but she managed to escape and came screaming into the village. I and several of our best hunters set out, but I'm blessed, so I was fastest. I got there first. She...she was raped and then torn to shreds...pieces..." she choked, and a sob wracked her body. "What wasn't devoured was barely recognizable after what he did to her, but it was her." She paused to take a deep breath and collect herself. "I buried my last child. There was nothing that mattered after that, or so I thought, but then I found Rufus. I hated therians. I hated them all for what they took from me, but Rufus was different. He was only a little boy, frightened, alone, hurt. No matter how much I wanted to die, I couldn't just leave him. After him and Lord Anshar, well, Lord Anshar how he used to be, I realized not all therians are evil, though I still don't trust or care for most of them. There are some things I just can't forgive or forget. I'm sorry, Halea, I know I was hard on you when you told me about Varg, but you remind me so much of her. I couldn't bear to think of anything bad happening to you."

Halea knelt down in front of Mama Dragon and threw her arms around her, and the two embraced and shed tears together.

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry," Halea offered. She knew that Mama Dragon lost her family long ago in her old country, but the true horror of what the older priestess must have endured never occurred to her. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like to have to carry such pain for so long. She was glad that Mama Dragon had Rufus.

"After all these years, I think he's afraid that if he leaves me, I'll be lonely and long for death again. Maybe he also feels indebted to me for saving him, but whatever his reason; I'm glad that he stays. I love him. He's my son. I would do anything to protect him, and that's why I kept him a secret."

"I understand," Halea replied.

"Here," Mama Dragon said as she handed the message back to Halea. "Why don't you give it to him? He never had much opportunity to make friends while in hiding with me."

"Sure," Halea said, accepting the message with a smile.

When Halea returned to the common area, Batsuba approached her. "Varg has just returned from his patrol. I was just on my way to speak with him."

"About what?"

"About the new southern alpha."

So much had happened since she set out for the eastern pack, that she had almost entirely forgotten that her battle with Rafe had left the southern pack without a leader.

"It's been decided then? Who is it?"

"His name is Raoul. You may have suspected, but Rafe wasn't always the most well-liked of alphas."

"He wasn't particularly charming, was he?" Halea sarcastically remarked.

"No, not even among lycans. He was a good leader, but his constant undermining of Varg, and Bledig before him was causing a rift between those loyal to their alpha and those loyal to the wolf king. There have long been whispers that Raoul was planning to challenge him for the right to be alpha, but he held back because Rafe still had the trust and respect of the majority of the southern pack. It's easier to overthrow an alpha when they're universally disliked, or prove to be incapable as a leader, but despite Rafe's faults, the wellbeing of his pack was always his priority. If Raoul had displaced him, he would have been very unpopular because so many had been unwaveringly loyal to Rafe. Combat may decide an alpha, but the support of the pack and its elders is also essential."

"But then I killed Rafe, well, it's not like I wasn't already unpopular with the southern lycans."

"Opinions are changing, Halea. What Rafe did to you was a crime among our people, even to the southern pack. Though they may not like you for being human, you _are_ our Supreme Wolfmother, and an attack on you is an attack upon the king, and an attack upon the king is treason. No matter how much each pack respects their alphas, loyalty to the Wolf King and Supreme Wolfmother come first."

"So, they're not angry that I killed Rafe?"

"Some are, I'm sure, but Raoul now has the support of the majority of the southern pack and its alphas," replied Batsuba.

"Was he a beta? I mean, was he always capable of being an alpha? Otsana told me she believes that a beta can never be as good of a leader as someone who was born with the will of an alpha. Is that true?"

"Since when are you on speaking terms with that brat?" Batsuba asked with a scrutinizing scowl. When Halea was not immediately forthcoming with an answer, she continued. "Raoul has always possessed an alpha's will, and so living under another alpha was difficult for him, as to whether or not a beta can become an alpha, that's a little more complicated. Those born with the will of an alpha almost always makes a good leader. It comes naturally to them. It's harder for a beta. They may rise to power if they're strong and skilled enough to achieve victory through combat, but they may lack confidence or charisma, and therefore, are less likely to make a decent leader. Their victory will be short-lived if they prove to be inept at leading a pack. Unfit alphas are more likely to have their authority challenged through combat, and it's only a matter of time before someone more suited to the position replaces them. Some betas can rise to the call of leadership and develop the qualities of a good alpha, but it's difficult, and it can take time and immense personal effort. It isn't very common among our kind, but it's not impossible. Then there are those with the will, but they need a little nudge."

Halea immediately thought of Otsana and nodded her head in agreement.

"Like you," continued Batsuba. "I knew the moment I met you that you had the potential to be an alpha bitch."

"Me? But, I'm not even a lycan!"

"That makes no difference," argued Batsuba. "Are there no great leaders among humans?"

"I guess there are. But was the will always there, or did I learn it?"

"The seed of power was always there. I saw it. Varg saw it too, or he wouldn't have chosen you. You had to find the courage within yourself to let it grow, and now you're finally as you were always meant to be - an alpha. Trust me Halea; I'm ancient, I've spent ages looked into the hearts and minds of others."

"You were a Wolfmother, weren't you?"

"Yes. Long, long ago," replied the old healer as her eyes momentarily squeezed shut with remembrance. "Unlike most cubs that don't begin to grow their first set of teeth until they are five or six moons old, I was born with my fangs. That is why I was named Batsuba. It's not a traditional lycan name, as I'm sure you've noticed. It's derived from the ancient language. You know what it means, don't you?"

"Biter?"

Halea had learned the ancient language, passed down from the old gods, from her grandfather at an early age.

Batsuba laughed, her black eyes shining, looking beyond the younger woman and into the past. "Yes. And bite I did. A lot! I was born a biter and a fighter. I was every bit an alpha in spirit. Hot tempered and driven. When I was still quite young, by lycan years, our alpha was killed in one of the great battles of the north, back when the gods and the first descendants still walked upon the earth and wars raged that are now long forgotten. Those were dark times. We needed a leader, but those who stepped forth to enter the challenge to become alpha were more likely to cause division between the pack. Some wanted peace; some wanted to go to war. Enough blood had been shed. Though all I ever wanted was to practice the ways of medicine, I couldn't stand by and see my pack be put into danger by arrogant males who hadn't yet had their fill of war. And so I entered the challenge, and I fought, and I vanquished my opponents. I was a Wolfmother in my own right, and not by mating. I made my voice heard in the lycan council, and the Wolf King took my side, and together we ushered in a new era of peace for our people...and we fell in love. But the old gods weren't done with their wars, and in time, my mate was taken from me."

Halea watched as a single glimmering tear escaped one of Batsuba's dark eyes and rolled down her face. She had seen that look of sadness from the elder before; when she was quiet, when she was looking into the past - remembering. Not wanting to cause any further pain, she quickly scrambled to change the subject.

"Why weren't we told this news when we were in the east?"

"It's best Varg hears this from me," Batsuba replied, her face suddenly calm as though nothing had just happened, and without further word, she led Halea to the northern edge of the den where they found Varg in a meeting with his best warriors.

The priestess that remained within his lands had swiftly eradicated the few tears that appeared since his journey into the east. All of his warriors had positive reports. They suffered no casualties, but dark weapons had injured a few. Thankfully, they were spared death by the purification powers of the priestess. Though staying in his lands to fulfill her duties was a part of their agreement, it seemed he was indebted to Mama Dragon for her invaluable services.

He noticed Halea and Batsuba approaching and dismissed his assembled warriors. He could tell by the sour look on the old healer's face he was about to hear something he wasn't going to like.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Your cousin is the new southern alpha," blurted Batsuba.

"What?" he practically shouted and even Halea gasped in shock. "And why wasn't I notified when the runner was sent to the east?" he growled.

"Raoul is the least of your worries. I didn't want any unwarranted concerns for the packs distracting you from your quest with the crow. I know Raoul can be difficult, but I think we should give him a chance."

Varg groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I suppose you're right. I almost wish you hadn't told me at all. I really don't need this right now."

"He allowed the priestess we sent to the south to fulfill her duties without hindrance. I think that's a good sign that he's more open to cooperation than his predecessor. For now, focus on the dragon," advised the elder.

Varg nodded in defeated acceptance, and with that, the healer turned and left.

"You never told me you had a cousin," Halea prompted when they were finally alone.

"It wasn't a secret. It just never came up. He's far older than I am and I grew up in the west, and he's from the south, so I never saw him much, except during small hunter's gatherings."

Because therians were immortal there could be a difference of decades or even centuries between siblings or cousins, and so Halea could somewhat understand why Varg never brought up this relative, but there was something she still didn't quite understand.

"But how are you two cousins? Who were his parents and why are you two from different packs? Does this mean you have an aunt and uncle?"

"My aunt, my mother's older sister, and Raoul's mother, died long before I was born, so I never knew her, but supposedly she and my mother looked a lot alike though they were born over two centuries apart."

"Batsuba said your mother was born here in the west."

"She was born here, and delivered by Batsuba, but she was from the south. Grandmother was pregnant during a wolf gathering that ran longer than anticipated and she went into labor while still in the west. After she was born they returned to the south where my mother grew up, but she wanted to become a healer, and she wanted to learn from the best. When she was old enough, she returned to the west to find Batsuba. She had to beg for months before becoming her apprentice. You know Batsuba, she doesn't accept an apprentice lightly."

Halea took some comfort in knowing the old healer's reluctance to accept her as an apprentice wasn't a slight against her just because she was a human.

"Obviously I wasn't there, but when I was little my mother loved to tell me about how she met my father, who was already the wolf king when she was born, but when she returned to the west, and he saw her as a grown woman he was instantly infatuated with her. She had every intention of spending a few years studying medicine, then returning to the south, but, well, they fell in love and chose each other and so she stayed here, and that was that."

Halea was surprised to learn that Valria had been a southern lycan. Her limited exposure to the southern pack had never been pleasant, and she had allowed herself to assume that perhaps they were all just inherently disagreeable, but maybe that was an unfair prejudice. She never knew Varg's mother, but if she wanted to become a healer, she had to have a caring heart, and Batsuba didn't seem to have any serious qualms about Varg's cousin leading the southern pack.

"What's Raoul like?"

Varg groaned and shook his head. "Let's just say he's unpredictable and I really don't know him as well as I should. As a new alpha, he'll have to present himself before the council. You'll meet him soon enough and you'll see what I mean. Try not to worry. We have bigger concerns right now."

He was right, and so she decided not to probe any further into the matter for the time being.

"Has the message been sent?" he asked.

"Not yet. I need to find Rufus. He wasn't with Mama Dragon."

"He's up there, pretending I can't see or smell him," Varg said as he pointed into the branches of one of the nearby tree-dwellings.

Halea looked up and noticed one of the branches that still contained a few leftover dried fall leaves was jostling unnaturally.

"Rufus?" she called. "Can you come down?"

Part of her wanted to ask Varg to give them some space, but she could sense her mate was in no mood to budge.

Rufus swooped down from the tree and transformed into his humanoid shape upon landing.

"I'll have you know that I knew that you knew I was up there, and I wasn't up there because of you, and I want you to know that I know you think I'm all bad news, but you're wrong."

"What?" asked Halea in genuine confusion.

"Bad news, good news, that's not it. I'm pissed because I didn't agree to let any bird therians into my lands. I'm grateful to your priestess companion for what she's done for my pack, but you should have revealed yourself from the start. I have a human for a mate, why would I give a damn what therians some priestess associates with? What matters to me is knowing what's going on within the boundaries of my territory."

"Varg, please. I know you're insulted that this was kept from you, I mean, it was kept from me too, but Rufus has never done us any harm, and if it weren't for him hunting the ravens and bringing word to me about my grandfather, we'd be in a much worse position."

As Halea spoke Rufus's reflective eyes zeroed-in on the glittering blue stone that she always wore around her neck. It was catching the light in a particularly attractive manner, and soon he lost focus on anything that was being said.

Varg noticed the way the humanoid falcon was suddenly staring at his mate's chest, and he immediately flew into a rage and seized the distracted therian by the throat and lifted him into the air.

Halea quickly jumped between them and tugged down on Varg's arm in an attempt to loosen his grip on Rufus whose eyes were bulging as he desperately fought for air. "Varg stop!" she cried.

Red had seeped into the edges of Varg's eyes, but despite his anger her voice reached him, and he dropped the other therian onto the ground with a hard thud.

"Keep your roving eyes off my mate, or I'll snap your head off!" he growled.

Rufus was on all fours gasping for breath, but he managed to explain. "I was looking at the stone, I swear!"

Halea suddenly recalled the way he always pecked at her blue crystal when he was in his bird form. She never thought much of it before, but like a typical bird, Rufus seemed to be attracted to shiny objects.

"Varg, you owe him an apology," she warned in a low tone.

"What? First, he sneaks around in my territory, and now he gets perverted with my mate, and I'm supposed to apologize?"

Rufus dusted himself off as he rose to his feet.

"Not that Halea isn't a lovely young woman, but I'll have you know there is someone else that I fancy, so you needn't be threatened by me."

Varg narrowed his eyes in doubt and growled beneath his breath, but Halea elbowed him in the ribs to silence him.

"I'm sorry, Rufus," Halea apologized in Varg's place. "It was just a misunderstanding," she added with a sharp glance at Varg, which somewhat softened his angry expression. "I know why you've kept your true nature hidden, and I don't blame you, lycans aren't exactly the most welcoming; initially, anyway. But if you give them a chance, they do come around. I'm very grateful for all the help you've given us, and I'm especially grateful for how much you've done for Mama Dragon. She told me everything, about the past, about you. I'm glad that she has you and I hope that we can be friends."

She sensed the dissipation of Varg's resentment as she spoke, but there was an underlying stubbornness that wasn't going to go away in a hurry.

"As far as I'm concerned, we're already friends. You mean an awful lot to Sophia and I know she wants to look after you and the other priestesses. That's just her way. Always a mother at heart, to everyone; even an orphaned therian."

"Thank you," she replied as his words warmed her heart.

She gave him the message that he was to carry to Antherose and he said farewell before taking off into the sky. Soon they would set out, and together they would be forced to slay the dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Poor Mama Dragon has a very tragic past and apparently, so does Batuba. This was a very high-drama chapter, but next chapter is going to be very high-action for a change of pace. So get ready to hold onto your butts! Also, a while back I added a very tiny scene in one of the earliest chapters where Rufus, in bird form, was pecking at Halea's shiny crystal. If you've been reading since I started posting this, you might have missed that small edit because it was added after the chapter was posted, but the scene in this chapter was a call-back to that earlier scene and I wanted to explain for any who were wondering at Halea's recollection.
> 
> As for me, I'm finally done moving, but now I'm traveling. We just spent a week with some friends, and sorry to say, not the quietest of environments for writing, but we're leaving for Oregon on Saturday and we'll be staying there for a few months and I should have a more stable and peaceful writing environment and so hopefully I can finish book 2 once I get there. I should still be on schedule though, so there shouldn't be any delays for the next chapter.
> 
> If you're enjoying the story please, please leave a comment and let me know what you think. I absolutely LOVE hearing from you guys! Please keep me encouraged. Feed my hungry writer's soul.


	29. Into the Fire

It was hard to keep track of the days. There were nightmares and moments of confusion where he couldn't separate his waking dreams from reality. There were times when he would call out for her and even wander the halls searching, expecting to find her, but she wasn't there.

"Where is Halea?" he asked Maven.

"She's not here, my Lord. Perhaps she never received Kalee's message."

"Message?"

It took a moment for the delusions and dreams to sift away and leave him with the aching reality. She was not there. She was not his mate. She still belonged to another, and they were still doomed to the fate of the Chaos Dimension. He vaguely remembered imprisoning her grandfather and sending Kalee to fetch her. Why had he done that? Wouldn't that hurt her? He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but memories of blood and death swam before his eyes, and he recoiled as he looked down at his hands as if the bloodstains were still fresh upon them. Is this what he had become? A mindless beast?

"Lord Anshar?" Maven timidly inquired as she watched him stare at his empty trembling hands. He wasn't well; she knew that much. The Chaos Dimension had harmed him in ways she couldn't understand. She heard him calling for Halea in the dead of night. She saw him wandering through the halls searching. When she would ask him if he needed anything, it was as if he couldn't see or hear her. She tried not to cry as she watched her once great Lord struggle against the darkness that had undoubtedly poisoned him. She didn't know how to help, but she knew she would do anything for him, even though his constant searching for Halea tore into her heart. Halea had betrayed them, betrayed _him_. If only he could see that his loyal High Priestess had never abandoned him, never lost faith. If only he could recognize her devotion, perhaps he could find peace.

She felt constant guilt and shame that she had to capture Uro. She did her best to see to it that he was as comfortable as she could make him, though she dared not answer any of his or Favion's questions. Every time she went into the dungeons to bring food, blankets, and other small comforts, she remained silent and refused to meet their eyes. Lord Anshar had his reasons for locking them away, and it was not her place to question or defy.

At the time she wanted to believe Lord Anshar intended to lure Halea to her just punishment, like all the other priestesses who lost faith, but in the days since, she had come to realize that his feelings for the younger priestess had not abated.

"How long has it been?"

"Nearly a week," she replied.

He nodded, but she could see his frustration and impatience as he turned and left her. In truth, she didn't want Halea to come. He needed to forget her; it would be better for him if he could move on. Dejectedly she went out into the gardens where she sat on a bench and wept into her hands.

This was her fault. She should have broken her oath long ago and professed her love when she still had the chance, before Halea came into their lives and stole his heart away. Perhaps if she had told him how she felt long ago, none of this would have happened.

As she wept, a shadow passed overhead, and she looked up in time to recognize Mama Dragon's falcon.

She leaped to her feet and chased after the bird as it landed in the far-end of the garden. Just as she reached it, it dropped a message onto the ground and sprang back into the air. She quickly scooped up the parchment and ran back into the castle.

Once inside she found a quiet corner where she could read the note. As her eyes scanned over the words her stomach sickened and anger burned through her veins. She folded up the message and held it over a lit candelabra, and just as the parchment was about to catch aflame, she heard his voice.

"Give it to me, Maven."

She looked up, her eyes filled with fear and guilt. She hadn't heard him enter the room, but she said nothing in shame as she passed him the message with a trembling hand.

He unfolded the note and read its contents.

_Lord Anshar,_

_How could you do this to me? To him? He spent his whole life serving you, and this is how you repay him? I once trusted you. Admired you. And you choose to threaten my mate and harm my grandfather! You sicken me now. You are not the man I once knew, and I will not come to Antherose. You will release Favion and my grandfather at once, and you will send him to me in the northern lycan mountain range where I will be waiting to claim him. If there is any mercy left in your heart, you will set him free, and if you do not, then I will be forced to challenge you for him. I am not afraid of you. I have an army of lycans waiting if you even think of trying anything._

_Halea_

"Lord Anshar, forgive me. It's just such an obvious trap," Maven tried to explain when he looked up from the message.

"I am aware of that, Maven."

"What will you do, my Lord?"

"I'm going," he replied, though he would bide his time and wait for the setting of the sun. If Halea were waiting in the northern lycan mountains, she would be easier to find if he could spot a campfire, which would be necessary with the punishing cold of the winter night.

"But, my Lord, that's what they want, this is an ambush! They will have an army waiting for sure!"

"Possibly, but I doubt it. Halea would have to sacrifice a lot of immortal wolves to rescue one human at the end of his years. As much as she loves her grandfather, I can't see her making such a selfish request of others. If there is an ambush, it is most likely to be her mate, and he's a fool if he thinks he can defeat me."

"But what if it isn't a bluff? What if they really have gathered an army?"

"Then I will fight."

"She doesn't love you!" blurted Maven as she tried to stand tall while watching her Lord's face grimace in pain. "Please, Lord Anshar, can't you see? She has already turned against you. If you killed that shifter, she would only hate you for it. You mean nothing to her, but you mean everything to me! Please forget her, I'm begging you. I would do anything for you, I swear it!"

He watched the tears roll freely down her cold, pale cheeks, and he couldn't deny the ache of sadness in his heart as he watched her suffering; it mirrored his own. He knew what it was like to love and not be loved in return, but even though he understood her pain, he also knew, he could never give her what she wanted. Even with all this blood on his hands, she still could not see him for what he truly was. He wasn't a god or a savior; only a fallen, broken creature.

He gently caressed her tear soaked skin with the back of his hand. "Maybe we are both damned. Forgive me, but I can't change what I know in my heart," he said with finality before turning and leaving her to collapse alone in misery.

* * *

Halea paced along the rocky outcrop in the northernmost mountains at the edge of the western lycan territory. She was a day's journey away from the den and another day away from Antherose and the sun was setting. Despite her campfire, it was getting colder by the minute, but the sky was clear. Scattered along the western face of the mountain were a few patches of snow from the last storm. The snowcapped peak rose above, but where she was, near the base, was mostly dry and barren.

There were a few trees around the outcrop and running down the mountainside, but their branches were bare. Rufus had delivered the message that morning; the flight had only taken him a few hours, and he had already returned from his mission. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was somewhere in his falcon form.

She prayed to Tiamet as she walked around her campsite. " _Please Tiamet, let him be merciful. Let him come to his senses and see what he's doing_." She so desperately wanted to hope that, after receiving her message; he would have placed her grandfather on a horse and sent him out from the city. Perhaps her grandfather was already riding towards the mountains, and he would see her fire, and she wouldn't have to confront the Dragon Lord.

" _Lord Anshar can fly in his dragon form._ _If he intended to challenge me; he would have arrived already. Wouldn't he?_ "

This location was chosen because it was an area where a fire could easily be seen from a distance, or from the sky, and more importantly because the rocky outcrop provided excellent cover for battle, and a potentially unfavorable place for a large winged creature to maneuver, should it decide to land.

She wrung her hands in an attempt to ease the shaking. She couldn't smell fear, but she was sure she reeked of it.

Her heart nearly seized when she heard the falcon's warning cry.

He was coming.

At first, she couldn't see anything in the sky, but eventually, she noticed a speck on the horizon, flying in from the north-west.

" _Varg, I'm frightened_ ," she thought, and though Varg couldn't read her thoughts, he could sense her fear. He was mostly keeping his emotions blocked in an attempt not to exacerbate her anxieties, but he managed to convey a sense of reassurance.

Sadly, not even Varg could comfort her as she watched the white dragon's approach. It would have been a spectacular sight if not for the danger. She had never seen a dragon in flight before and there was something majestic about the way he soared through the sky with the setting sun glowing behind him and illuminating his glittering scales. The sight before her both deepened her remorse and strengthened her resolve.

She balled her hands into fists and thrust her chin forward as the mighty dragon began to circle down towards the outcropping. There were few places to land, but the massive beast managed to find perch upon a boulder. Halea tried not to tremble as it fixed its shining silver eyes on her. He transformed before her, and witnessing the shifting of his form served only to drive home the reality of the true force she was up against. Lord Anshar was far from any ordinary man; in the blink of an eye, he could become death incarnate.

He donned his blackened armor and his blood red cloak, The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds sheathed at his side. With perfect grace, he leaped down from the boulder and casually stalked towards her.

"I can hear your heart pounding; if only you could hear mine. Why are you afraid of me, Halea? I would never harm you," he asked in a cajoling tone as he came closer.

"You harmed my grandfather! How could you? He's old, and his heart is weak, and you threw him in a dungeon. Stay back!" she shouted, halting him mid-step before he could come within arm's reach of her.

"You're right. I'm a monster for what I've done. This isn't like me, but you would not come to me, and I needed to see you again. If you just come back to Antherose with me, we can make everything right together. I'll set him free. I'll do anything you want."

"No!"

He narrowed his eyes at her harsh tone. "I dislike the smell of fear on you. Do you think I want to kill you, like the others?"

That was exactly what she feared. Refusing him was signing her death warrant, but she could sense that she needed to buy more time, so she chose her next words carefully.

"Please, Lord Anshar. This isn't like you; none of this is like you. You never wanted to hurt anyone before. You hated taking lives more than anything. This is the doing of Chaos, can't you see? You don't have to do any of this."

"But I do, Halea. I know the Chaos is using me, but there is no other hope. The convergence cycle can't go on…I can't go on. Not alone. Not anymore. So many eyes begging me to save this world. So much blood on my hands, and for what? We are always in peril, always on the brink of destruction, and it is always my burden. I'm sorry, Halea. I can't bear it anymore. I cling to the slim hope that perhaps this world can be remade. Perhaps we were fighting something that was meant to be; interfering in the grand scheme of the universe, of the gods. Either the world will be remade, or everything will cease to exist. I can no longer be your savior. I'm weak. I'm sorry."

She balked to hear him so readily accept their destruction as an acceptable outcome. Had he considered that as a possibility when he threw himself into the Chaos? Did he willingly risk their world even before the Chaos had warped his mind? Such questions cut into her heart like a red-hot knife, but she couldn't become distracted. This could be her last chance to reach him.

"I know. I know it's not fair that you had to be the one to bear this burden all alone. I know how it hurt you, how much it tore you apart on the inside, how much you hated it. I wanted there to be another way too, so you wouldn't have to suffer or be sad anymore, but this…this isn't the way. I want to believe that Tiamet is trying…"

"She's not!" he growled. "She doesn't care for our suffering. She doesn't care who dies to save this world. She is a selfish goddess. For ages, we put our faith in her and for what? She doesn't hear our prayers. She serves only herself now."

Halea sobbed as tears rolled freely down her cheeks. She couldn't believe it. The Goddess was with her, always with her; there had to be hope.

Lord Anshar took a cautious step forward, and when she did not flee or stop him, he took another until he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to, but he held back in fear of her rejection.

"You alone could see into my heart and yet you always tried to make me smile, to comfort me. Yet, I hated your pity. I hate it now. There is nothing in this world I wouldn't give to see you smile for me one more time, a real smile, not one of your false comforts, but a genuine moment of happiness to be beside me, like how we used to be when you were young, when you didn't hate me as you do now. You've always understood me while all others blinded themselves to my pain, my weakness. You should have hated me from the start. That's what I truly deserved, not your pity. Why? Why didn't you hate me?"

"I…I couldn't…" she tried to explain while taking one cautious step back.

"I suppose if I cannot have your love, I will have your hate, but either way, you will be mine," he growled as snatched her wrist firmly in his grasp before she could retreat any further. "You're coming back to the castle with me."

"Like hell she is!" Varg shouted as he leaped out from hiding and swung the Fang, forcing Lord Anshar to jump back and let go of Halea to avoid the sword.

Varg tossed Halea her spear that he had been keeping for her while Lord Anshar drew his blade.

"You concealed your scent. Very clever, and now I know who has been helping the priestesses to escape me," Lord Anshar acknowledged.

Varg growled in warning as he raised his weapon. He wanted to strike when the dragon was most distracted, but Halea had begged him to be allowed a moment to try and reason with the beast. When it became clear that he was beyond reason, Varg had heard enough and could no longer wait.

Together they charged at Lord Anshar, assaulting him on both sides. Halea had never fought beside Varg while he was armed before. She was familiar with his fighting style, but she had never seen him wield a weapon with such skill and ferocity, and for once in their lives, she was struggling to keep up.

Lord Anshar deflected their attacks, but something was different; the wolf had obtained remarkable skill with his blade since they last dueled, and with the combined attacks from Halea, he was forced into a defensive form. It took all of his speed to counter the strikes of the wolf's sword while dodging the thrusts and slashes of Halea's spear. He growled in frustration as he fought for an opening that would allow him to defeat the wolf without harming Halea, but she seemed aware of his intent, and whenever he increased his speed or adjusted his form, she was there waiting to counter his attacks in defense of her mate.

Red was seeping into the edges of Varg's eyes. He could sense the dragon had no intention of focusing any of his attacks on Halea, and he was struggling with his inner wolf which was raging at the idea that his mate was so close to danger.

" _No. He won't hurt her, and I won't let him. We can fight him together_ ," he thought with determination as he battled against the dragon outside and the wolf within.

Anshar leaped back, narrowly avoiding the strikes from his opponents on both sides. He couldn't harm Halea. This was between him and the wolf, and he needed to draw him away from her if he was going to have any hope of launching a proper counteroffensive. He dodged away and charged down the mountainside forcing the wolf to give pursuit. Halea tried to follow, but Varg managed to leap ahead, the Fang blazing in his hands. Varg swung down the Fang, releasing a blast from the divine weapon that left a wake of devastation down the mountainside, but as the cloud of dust began to settle a form rose from the debris and charged. Halea skidded to a halt as she reached the edge of the damage and watched in panic as Varg and Lord Anshar clashed swords. So vicious were their attacks that they uprooted trees and cleaved boulders in two as they traded blows and grappled against each other along the mountainside.

Varg's newfound skill was keeping him alive, but Halea could see that Lord Anshar still had the upper hand. Though more slenderly built, Lord Anshar was stronger, faster, and wielded The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds with the deadly expertise of one who has lived through the ages. She had to act fast, or Varg would not be able to hold out against him for much longer.

Now was the time.

She reached into her robe and pulled out Mama Dragon's dart gun, aimed, and fired.

She was within close enough range, and it felt as if her heart did not even dare to beat in that one moment as she watched the dart whiz through the air towards Lord Anshar. But almost faster than she could see he spun away from Varg's slashing blade, reached up, and caught the dart mid-air.

He had heard it coming. His eyes changed shape in anger as he snapped the dart in two and threw it to the ground.

"I won't be stopped so easily this time," he warned as he raised his sword and charged against Varg once again.

Halea tried to ready the next dart, but Lord Anshar saw her and leaping back from Varg, he swung wide with The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds, slashing towards her dart gun but narrowly missing and hitting the last dart with the broadside of his sword and sending it flying up into the rocks of the outcropping above.

"Get away from her!" Varg growled as he again tried to divert the dragon's attention away from his mate. Lord Anshar shifted his focus back to the wolf as he continued to push him back with more and more attacks that he was only narrowly able to defend or evade. No matter what techniques Varg used, he couldn't best the dragon in combat, but he had to keep fighting. He couldn't give up.

" _I submit myself to you, Wolf Gods. My will is yours. Grant me your strength_ ," he prayed, and as he called upon the ancient wolves the Fang began to glow, and he felt his strength renew, and with one mighty swing he leaped forward and pierced the dragon's armor, stabbing him in the chest.

Lord Anshar's eyes became completely elliptical as he snarled in pain, but when Varg withdrew his blade the dragon only staggered as blood poured from the wound.

"Not even the gods can save you from me," growled Anshar as he began to shift into his dragon form.

Halea had struggled partway up the mountainside in a desperate attempt to find the missing dart when she heard Lord Anshar growl as Varg pierced his chest. With a thundering heart, she watched as Lord Anshar transformed, growing in size and sprouting wings.

"Varg, help me up!" she shouted as she leaped back down the mountainside where Varg extended his clasped hands in time to catch her by the foot and with one powerful hoist, he launched her back up into the air so high that she quickly reached and safely landed on the rocky ledge above.

Varg was out of time; she had to find that last dart.

The dragon reared its head and inhaled deeply, and Varg leaped behind a large tree just as the beast released its breath of fire. The flames roared all around him, and the tree which shielded him began to blister and burn. The forest, littered with the last dry leaves and broken branches of the changing season caught aflame, and soon the entire mountainside was on fire.

"Varg!" shouted Halea as she looked down the mountainside. She couldn't see anything past the flames below, but she could sense that her mate was still alive. She desperately looked around the rocks for the missing dart, but the smoke was rising from below and clouding her vision and making it hard to breathe.

Burning trees along the mountainside were falling all around her as the flames rose higher and higher and the heat began to force her away from the edge. She dropped to her knees and groped blindly among the rocks, but she couldn't find the dart, and the flames were getting ever closer. Traumatic memories from her youth resurfaced as the fire rose around her, and once again she felt as if she were a child frightened and alone. Varg was somewhere below panicking on her behalf, and the cause for his concern quickly became apparent, as the flames were spreading higher up the mountain, and soon she was trapped with no way to escape the rocky ledge.

Her eyes stung and watered so much from the smoke that she could scarcely see, but she could tell that a dark shadow had risen over the flames and like an impervious wall, blocked out the rising heat from below. Halea cowered in terror as she choked and coughed on the smoke as the massive form loomed over her. Her lungs and eyes burned, and there was no air, and she was on the verge of losing consciousness when suddenly she felt something drape over her entire body.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe, I have you," she heard a man's voice reassure, but this time there was no comfort in that voice as she felt the strong arms lift her up from the hot ledge and through her watery eyes she saw the same shining silver hair that she remembered from her youth. He gently enclosed her in the red cloak, and the world faded into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : MWAHAHAHAHA ::clears throat:: Ah, so many throw-backs. Are you feeling the burn? Lord Anshar's captured Halea. Is Varg okay? Was this chapter exciting enough for you? Need more excitement? Well, hold onto your butts because next chapter is the big climax of our story. Yep only 2 more chapters to go. :)
> 
> Please please please leave comments or feedback. I haven't heard much from you guys lately and I need your loooooove. Spare a cup of kindness for your poor humble author. :*(
> 
> Almost done with book 2 and I'm super excited for book 3, so many big plans for the last book in this series. Much drams. Much excitement. I will be taking a break from posting between book 2 and 3 so I can get ahead on the writing for book 3, work on editing and publishing book 2, commission the cover art for book 3, write a short story I've been sitting on for a while, and do some work on my poor neglected writing blog (jmriddles dot com). I'm quite the busy bee, but have no fear Convergence is the top of my priorities list and if you follow my blog or any of my social media accounts (which are all linked on the blog), I promise I will keep you guys posted with all kinds of news, updates, and when to expect book 3 and the fully published version of book 2 (and a sneak peek at the cover of book 3).


	30. Tiamet

Varg leaped through the flames and rolled down the mountainside as all the trees and dry brush caught fire. He couldn't see beyond the fire and smoke, but he could sense his mate's danger and all-consuming fear. He needed to reach her but all around him the heat was creeping ever closer, and he struggled for air but could only cough and choke as the smoke blurred his vision.

He hated to wield the Fang blind, but if he didn't, he would soon perish. He raised the sword and brought it down with all his might, releasing a blast that carved into the mountainside creating a path through the flames. He charged back up the mountainside and managed to consume a gasp of clean air before the smoke of the smoldering ruin caught up with him, but to his horror, the moment his vision cleared, he caught sight of the dragon.

Halea, still wrapped in the red cloak, lay unconscious in Lord Anshar's arms.

Varg's eyes turned blood red as she shouted over the roar of the flames. "Bastard! I'll kill you!"

"You can try," replied Lord Anshar in a booming voice. "But Halea is mine."

Varg raced up the mountain towards the outcropping but was too late as Lord Anshar shifted into his Dragon form as Halea hung limply from his massive talons. The beast spread its wings and leaped into the air.

Varg raised his blade to unleash the power of the Flame but froze. As much as the wolf within him wanted to slay the beast, he couldn't strike or he would kill Halea. There was nothing he could do as he watched the dragon soar into the west with his mate, and he roared in frustration and anger.

Rufus circled down from above. He had been forced into the air the moment all the trees caught fire and by the time he was able to find a clear path to land, the dragon had already flown away. He noticed Varg, but Halea wasn't with him.

"Varg, where is Halea?" he asked the moment he landed and changed shape, but Varg did not answer him.

Rufus took a cautious step back when he noticed that Varg was growling; his jaw clenched baring elongated fangs.

"Varg?"

Rufus jumped in fear as Varg's head snapped to face him, revealing blazing red eyes that fixed upon him with a look of malice.

"Varg, come to your senses! Halea's in danger, we have to help her," pleaded Rufus, but Varg snarled and raised the Fang.

Acting quickly Rufus leaped into the air in an attempt to change shape, but before he could fully transform the blast of the Fang struck the earth, and violently launching him over the outcrop. He hit the rocks with a sickening sound as one of the bones snapped in his half-shifted wing-arm.

Below, as the debris settled, the red gradually began to recede from Varg's eyes, and in dismay, he looked at the devastation all around him.

"What happened? What have I done? Halea? Where is Halea?" he thought in panic as he searched when suddenly he heard a groan of agony from above.

He raced up the rocks where he found Rufus huddled in pain and clutching his arm that bent at an awkward angle.

"What happened to you? Where is Halea?"

"Oh gods, don't kill me!" shouted Rufus, who recoiled at the sight of Varg, his face stricken with fear.

Vague memories tinged with violent emotions fought their way to the surface of Varg's mind, and he quickly surmised the truth of what he had done.

"Rufus, I'm sorry. It was the blood rage, I swear it. You shouldn't have come close to me. Only Halea…" he stopped as his chest constricted in horror and panic. "Halea! He's taken her! I've got to get her back!"

Rufus was familiar with blood rage. Most therians battled against their inner beast and even he had felt the talons of his wild nature raging for control in his own darkest and most primal moments. There were many different types of therians, and they all experienced rage differently, some were far more in control of their animalistic instincts than other. He had never experienced a lycan's rage before, but he had learned the hard way that he would never again try to talk reason into a red-eyed wolf.

Using his good arm to pull himself up against the rocks, Rufus rose to his feet, but as he stood, he noticed something lying on the ledge. He cautiously reached out and picked it up to discover that it was one of Sophia's toxin covered darts.

"Look what I found," Rufus exclaimed as he offered Varg the dart. "He'll have taken her to his castle in Antherose" he explained as he clutched his arm and cringed in pain. "It's northwest of here. If you use that you can perhaps save her; it's your only hope now."

"I've never been to this human civilization. I don't know where it is and I don't have time to spend looking for it," growled Varg as he handed the dart back to Rufus. "Show me."

"I can't transform with a broken arm, and I certainly can't fly. I need Sophia to set my arm, or I may never fly again."

"Then you can show me the way on foot. Let's go."

"There's still the matter of my arm, which you broke," grumbled Rufus who reluctantly tucked the dart into his vest pocket.

"Then I'll set it."

"What? No!" cried Rufus, but there was nowhere to run with his back against the rocks and the inability to transform.

With a firm hand and a loud snap, his shout of pain echoed across the mountains.

* * *

Her head was pounding, and she felt as if she was going to retch as she opened her eyes to discover that she was in a dimly lit room. The stench of smoke still permeated her clothes and hair, and it quickly reminded her of the last thing she remembered.

" _Varg! Where's Varg?_ " she frantically thought and was quickly met with a torrent of emotions across their bond as she sensed her mate. Amongst his relief, she could tell that he was freighted for her and very, very angry. She knew that he was coming, and her heart leaped in fear.

"You're awake. How are you feeling?" she heard a man's voice ask and her blood ran cold as she realized the only faint light in the room was coming from a lit fireplace, and before the fire sat a high-backed chair that was facing the flames.

When she did not answer, she watched as Lord Anshar rose from the chair and walked towards her where she sat up in bed. He was no longer wearing his armor, and she noticed the wound on his chest as blood was soaking through the hastily applied bandages. An injury like that would have killed a human or a lesser therian, but she could tell by his movements that it was already beginning to heal.

"Halea, please don't be frightened of me. I won't hurt you," he gently spoke as he stopped before reaching the foot of the bed. Her wide dilated eyes, the scent of her fear, and the frantic pounding of her heart twisted something inside of him like a knife. Would this be all he would ever have from her? Her fear. Her hate. He deserved it. He knew he did, but that realization hurt no less.

"It won't always be this way, Halea. Therian bonds are powerful, mysterious things, as I'm sure you've noticed. You love your mate because you share your soul with him. Sharing a soul makes love inevitable, and that is even more so with dragons."

"I love my mate because I have always loved him and nothing you say or do can change that!" she snapped.

His eyes clenched shut at her harsh words; his brow knitting together as he frowned in disdain. "Perhaps you were meant for him and not for me, or the gods wouldn't have made me a Dragon Lord and you a priestess. But I despise the gods now, especially Tiamet, and if I must defy them to remake the world, then I will take what I want of it, including you. I will kill your mate because that is the only way I can free you from his bond and make you mine. I don't wish to hurt you, and I know you will hate me, even more so than you do now, but when you're bound to me and share my soul, you will share my life-force. Once our souls are linked you will not be able to ignore my love for you; it will consume you, and in time you will be mine. I can wait, even if it takes ages."

"You monster!" she shouted as she wept.

"I know," he replied regretfully. "I didn't wish for it to be this way. I can't bear to see you in pain, and I know bonding myself to you in your grief will make me experience exactly what you feel. I deserve for you to hurt me. I deserve your hatred, and if it is I who hurt you, I deserve to feel every ounce of your misery. For you, I will suffer because that is what I deserve, and I will accept if that is all I can ever have, but I would gladly bear it all if only I could keep you by my side. I am a monster - a villain. I don't deserve love or kindness, not after all that I've done and all that I will yet do. Whether I live or die, the punishment for my crimes will be hell. Please, don't look at me with such pity in your eyes!" he pleaded as he turned away from her.

She couldn't help it. He was so utterly broken, so horribly beaten. It was true he had done terrible things, but she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. What was once such a mighty Lord had become only a sad and wretched creature.

"Lord Anshar…" she tried, but he cut her off before she could speak further.

"I'm going to kill him, Halea. Remember that and hate me for it," he growled as he made for the door and with a loud slam he was gone.

* * *

It wasn't until sunrise the next morning that Varg and Rufus reached the outskirts of Antherose. They stood among the thick trees spying on the main road that led into the city. Travelers and merchants would occasionally pass by in wagons or on horseback, and the poor beasts would always detect the scent of something on the wind that made them skittish.

"Easy, boy. We're almost there. What's got into you?" asked one man of his horse after it neighed and reared up, nearly tossing him onto the road. With gentle coaxing, the horse and its rider moved along, and from the shadows, Rufus let out a sigh of relief.

"How much longer must we wait?" grumbled Varg.

"If it was just me, I could walk in on my own. I can pass for human, but not you. You've spooked every horse that's passed by, and those pointy ears and teeth are a dead giveaway."

"Who cares?" growled Varg who's patience was already very thin, his hand tightening around Halea's spear which he had brought with them. While faster than a human, Rufus wasn't quite as fast as a lycan in his humanoid form, and it had already taken far longer to reach the city than Varg liked. He could sense that Halea had awakened. She seemed initially frightened, then incredibly sad, then frightened again.

"We already have to face a dragon; we don't need rangers hunting us down too!" argued Rufus. He couldn't move his fingers or his hand on his left arm which throbbed painfully. Varg had successfully reset the bone and helped him apply a makeshift splint made from flat pieces of tree bark. They wrapped the splint tightly with leather torn from the edge of Varg's winter pelt, which he barely needed as the cold hardly concerned him. Rufus still required the aid of a healer as Varg's first aid skills were rudimentary at best, and he hoped that if they could rescue Halea, she could take a look at his injury.

"Here's one," Varg observed with a nod back towards the road, and Rufus turned to see an older human trudging towards the city. He wore a long and heavy fur cloak with a hood pulled back enough to see a somewhat sour and aged face.

"That'll do," agreed Rufus, who stepped onto the road blocking the traveler's way.

"Oh good sir, thank heavens you're here. My horse threw me off and broke my arm. Would you happen to know of any reliable healers in Antherose? This is my first time coming here, and I wouldn't know who to ask, and I'd hate to submit myself to some charlatan."

"You poor soul!" cried the traveler. "Antherose is my home, and I'd be happy to take you to my personal healer. Many's the time I've placed my life in his worthy hands, and I'm sure he can help."

While Rufus distracted the unsuspecting man, Varg crept up behind and covered his mouth with his hand.

The poor old man tried to struggle and cry for help, but there wasn't any resisting. Rufus quickly explained that all they wanted was his cloak and that it would be in his best interest to hand it over and not turn around and try to see the person who grabbed him from behind. With fear in his eyes, he quickly surrendered the cloak and Varg put it on. They could make it to the castle long before the old man could even reach the city and report the robbers to the rangers, but Varg had a better idea.

"Put your hand behind your back," ordered the deep voice of the robber behind him, and the old man fearfully obeyed, suspecting he was about to be tied up or some other terrible indignity.

To his surprise, he felt a cold hard lump slip into his hand, and the mysterious man behind him said. "You saw nothing. Speak of this to no one." And then both men were gone with such speed he felt his old heart tremble at the unnatural sight. When he raised his hand, he saw a large and gleaming nugget of purest gold, and suddenly he didn't mind at all that he had just lost his favorite fur cloak.

* * *

Maven gasped when Lord Anshar came down the tower stairs. "My Lord, your wound is bleeding again!"

He had returned in the night carrying Halea's unconscious body, and the severity of his injury horrified. There weren't any healers or nurses in the castle infirmary, she had sent them all away in fear that someone would discover that Lord Anshar had returned, and so she did her best to bandage him on her own, but dressing wounds wasn't one of her strong suits.

"The wolf learned to wield a sword," he commented with chagrin as he painfully lowered himself to sit on the last steps. "As I lose the favor of the gods, he gains. It seems I am up against the forces of both heaven and earth."

Maven rushed to his side to check his bandage but he gently held her back. "It will heal," he explained. "Though, I will be temporarily diminished in strength. I underestimated the lycan's power. You were right, Maven. It was quite an ambush."

"Lord Anshar, are you in pain? Is there nothing I can do for you?"

He laughed a mirthless laugh at her inquiry into his pain. The physical wound was the least of his sufferings. The voice was once again clawing into his mind, demanding for him to abandon his personal agenda and continue the mission. He was fighting against it in defiance, but he could feel his mind slipping as he was losing the battle. A sharp pain like an iron spike pierced through his skull, and he groaned in agony and collapsed from the stair onto his knees.

"Lord Anshar!" cried Maven as she watched him clutch his head in pain.

Darkness swirled around him, and the voice boomed from within.

_You must remake the world, or you will never be free!_

He growled in protest and with a last burst of strength he fought his way beyond the voice and into the deepest folds of the void that lay beyond and there within, he saw the eyes of a dragon.

He gasped as he opened his eyes and found himself once again crouching on the cold marble floor within his castle. Maven was at his side, her arms wrapped around his shoulders in her pathetic attempt to comfort him.

What he had seen had shaken him, and a new wave of despair took him.

Maven helped him to his feet and guided him into his office, closing the door behind.

He collapsed into his chair, and that was when he laid eyes once again upon the dark mirror which sat on his desk. In anger, he struck the mirror knocking it from its resting place where it fell loose from its cover and clattered to the floor.

Maven held her breath as she watched it fall, but to her amazement, the glass did not shatter when it landed face-down on the rug. She felt the inexplicable urge to rush towards the sacred object and ensure that it wasn't damaged, but as she took a step towards it, Lord Anshar's voice stopped her.

"Leave it! I will have nothing of Tiamet before me now!" he grumbled.

"I'll fetch fresh bandages," she offered and made for the door, but again he stopped her.

"Don't. Go to the tower and guard the door. See that she doesn't leave," he commanded.

Maven tried not to cringe at her Lord's request. He so obviously needed help. He wouldn't have been injured if not for Halea and her shifter, and it hurt her pride and her heart to be ordered to keep her under lock and key.

But despite her displeasure, she nodded her head and removed herself from his office.

* * *

They were forced to slow their pace as they neared the city gates or risk someone noticing their inhuman speed. Rufus led them up the path towards the castle, which thankfully was on the northernmost outskirts of Antherose and away from the comings and goings of the citizens. Everyone they passed looked up in curiosity to see the unfamiliar dark-eyed man and his large and mysterious companion whose face was obscured by the hood of his thick fur cloak. Luckily, despite the larger man carrying what appeared to be the spear of a priestess, no one was bold enough to approach them or asked any questions.

Varg was too anxious to reach the castle to feel uncomfortable by the fact that so many humans surrounded him. The decaying scent of the old man who previously owned the cloak was already overpowering his senses, and he couldn't wait to discard the disguise and be free of its stench.

" _I'm coming, Halea_ ," he thought as they neared the castle and somewhere he could sense her anxiety increasing with every passing moment.

* * *

Halea stared out the window of the tower and into the west. The waves crashed upon the jagged rocks far below, and she could tell that she was in one of the highest rooms within the castle. The door was bolted shut and made of heavy oak. She could break it down, but Lord Anshar wouldn't let her get very far, and she could also tell that Maven was sitting on the other side keeping guard over her and she didn't want to hurt the High Priestess who would undoubtedly refuse to get out of the way.

" _Tiamet, help me, please. What should I do? He'll kill Varg, and I don't know how to stop him_ ," she prayed.

She sensed across the bond she shared with her mate, and she could tell that he was on his way and that he was very close, dangerously close. The dart was gone, and they no longer had the element of surprise on their side. While Lord Anshar was injured, he was no less dangerous, and now he knew that Varg had the favor of the gods and he would no longer underestimate him in battle. Diplomacy had failed, she couldn't reach him. She couldn't stop him.

" _What do I do? Please. Please, what do I do?_ "

Her vision faltered, and she found herself gazing into golden eyes which wept.

_Save him._

She gasped when once again she found herself staring out the window and everything within her soul seemed to be yearning for the citadel that lay somewhere far beyond her vision.

"Tiamet?"

* * *

Lord Anshar was startled out of his darkened thoughts by a violent eruption that shook the castle and caused plaster to crack and fall loose from the ceiling and rain down upon his desk.

He rose and swiftly put on his armor and picked up The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds, then ran out to meet his foe.

Below, in the courtyard, Varg unleashed the power of the Fang to knock down the wall and break into the inner castle grounds. If his mate weren't inside, he wouldn't have hesitated to level the castle to the ground.

"Dragon, give me my mate! Come out and fight!" he shouted in challenge, and to his satisfaction, Lord Anshar leaped down from one of the lower balconies, landing with ease and a flourish of his flowing red cloak.

* * *

The castle shook beneath Halea's feet, and she knew that Varg was somewhere below and that he would soon be fighting for his life. She couldn't wait anymore.

"Maven! Let me out, or I'll break down this door."

"No!" replied the muffled voice.

Halea's hands glowed white as her power burned within her.

"Move! I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't get out of my way I'll kill you!"

To her surprise Maven threw open the door and stood before her brandishing her spear.

"Halea, so help me, if I have to fight you I will," challenged Maven.

Halea was unarmed; she didn't even have her knife because she had used the hidden pocket in her green robe to conceal the darts instead and she had counted on having her spear with her.

"Maven, please be reasonable. You know he's mad!"

"I don't care if he's mad, I love him!" she screamed, and her voice faltered as she choked back her bitter tears.

Halea moved swiftly catching the distraught priestess off guard. Maven swung her spear, but Halea caught it mid-air and grappled against the High Priestess who struggled to shake off her opponent. Halea shoved hard, throwing Maven off balance and with a fast low sweeping kick she knocked the High Priestess's legs from under her. Maven lost her grip on her weapon and fell hard. She was unable to get up again before Halea leaped on top of her and used the butt of the spear, knocked her unconscious.

Halea got up, still holding the spear, and cast one last look of sorrowful regret upon her fallen High Priestess before running from the room.

She flew down the stairs, but as she neared the door to Lord Anshar's study some invisible force seized her, and again she heard the voice calling out to her.

_Save him._

She stopped and looked through the doorway; she didn't know why but something was drawing her into that room. Again her vision swam and she found herself staring into golden eyes pleading with sadness. And there, reflected within the eyes, she saw a mirror.

And just as suddenly as it appeared, the vision was gone, and she found herself standing motionless within Lord Anshar's study once again. She blinked rapidly to clear her head and struggled to make sense of what she had just seen, but it was then that saw something lying on the floor that caught her attention.

The dark mirror.

She gasped as she realized what it was and a terrible sensation came over her and she was unable to resist the desire to go near, to reach out and take the sacred object. She was too frightened to look beyond the surface of the mirror, and instead, she clasped it to her breast.

"What do you want me to do, Tiamet? Is this what you want?" she asked, but no one answered, and that was when the castle shook once again, and a sound like thunder roared from outside.

"Varg!" she cried, and taking the mirror with her, she ran to join him.

* * *

The divine weapons clashed, and the ground shook, and dark clouds swirled in the skies as the seas raged against the cliffs below.

Varg gritted his teeth and braced himself as Lord Anshar bore down on him with such force that he was thrown back until he crashed through a segment of the stone wall of the courtyard.

Rufus could only look on and desperately seek cover as the two therians raged against each other in a battle that would soon demolish every standing structure around them. His ever-darting eyes noticed something moving down the castle steps and enter the courtyard, and his heart leaped at the sight of Halea, a spear in one hand and a strange and shiny object in the other.

"Halea!" he shouted to draw her attention over the sounds of the fighting.

She noticed Rufus calling to her from a secluded corner of the courtyard, and she rushed over to join him.

"Rufus, I have to stop them," she cried in panic.

"Your spear," he offered. Varg had given it to him to keep when they reached the castle. Halea dropped Maven's weapon in exchange for her own. To her delight, Rufus removed the last dart from his pocket. "I found it."

Hope swelled within her, and she looked at each of the items she was carrying and made the decision to leave the mirror with Rufus and take the dart.

"Thank you, Rufus," she cried as she removed the dart gun from her hidden pocket and ran into the courtyard. Perhaps Tiamet was with her after all. This had to be a sign!

Lord Anshar winced in pain as the wolf elbowed him in the chest while grappling against his blade. Blood oozed from the wound and the metallic scent mixed with the pain caused his eyes to become elliptical with rage.

Varg's eyes were already completely red as he swung his sword at his opponent again and again, the sound of their steel ringing like thunder as a storm raged overhead. Even injured, the strength of the dragon seemed insurmountable, but he couldn't back down.

"Varg!" he heard Halea shout his name, and as he struggled to hold off his opponent, he saw her rush towards them.

"Halea, stay back!" shouted Varg, but it was too late, and the dragon turned his eyes upon her.

Halea froze as Anshar focused his attention on her. She couldn't waste her only dart; if he knew that it was coming, all hope would be lost. Defiantly she held her glowing spear aloft.

"Lord Anshar, stop!" she cried as she braced herself for his impending attack, but Varg rushed the dragon with his weapon and quickly drew his attention away.

Halea quickly readied her dart, but when she looked up Lord Ansha had pinned Varg, their swords locked and The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds inching ever closer to her mate's throat.

She fired the dart and in a movement too fast for her eyes, Lord Anshar released his opponent and held up his sword in time to deflect the projectile which broke apart from the impact. Varg shoved Lord Anshar hard, sending him smashing through a marble fountain.

It was gone.

The dart was gone. There was nothing now, no hope. At that moment Halea felt as if time had stopped and she watched in abject defeat as Lord Anshar rose and charged towards her mate once again. They swung their swords violently, each attack more vicious than the last. Varg's eyes glowed red but he was losing strength, and there was nothing she could do.

"Halea?" she heard Rufus shout, and she was startled from her stupor as he shook her shoulder and shoved something that glowed into her hand.

She dropped her spear as she stared in silence at the glowing object.

The mirror.

The mirror pulsated with a strange light that frightened the falcon therian, and he quickly rushed to return it to Halea who he felt must surely know the meaning of the strange occurrence.

She held the mirror up and looked into its blinding light. Something lay beyond the surface, and again her vision shifted, and everything became white around her.

A beautiful woman with hair as fair as the morning light and eyes of molten gold stood weeping before her dressed in ethereal flowing raiment. Her ears were long and pointed, and when she opened her mouth to speak, fangs peeked out from behind her luscious full lips.

"Save him. Please, save him. I will give you all the power you need," spoke the woman in a voice that rang like gentle music throughout her soul before the light swelled and once again Halea found herself standing in the courtyard.

In her hands, the mirror continued to glow, and she knew, somehow she knew exactly what she had to do.

"Anshar!" she called just as the dragon swung his blade knocking Varg into the decimated remains of the courtyard wall.

Lord Anshar turned to her, but he stopped, his serpentine eyes growing wide as he beheld the glowing mirror held aloft in her outstretched hands.

"Tiamet, give me strength!" she cried as she held onto the mirror as its light continued to spread.

Lord Anshar stood frozen as the glow took hold of him. A swirling vortex of dark and light appeared and grew until the dimension cracked open and began to pull him into the void.

"No! Halea, stop!" he shouted.

"Tiamet, help me!" she cried again as the light grew stronger.

Even with all his strength, he could not resist the void which was pulling him in. In desperation, he thrust his sword into the earth and held firm to the hilt, but it was no use as the vortex continued to grow until at last he lost his grip upon the blade and was sucked into the dimension that lay beyond the surface of the mirror.

The storm that raged overhead grew quiet and the waves calmed below.

* * *

 **A note from your humble author** : Phew! This chapter! So many things! All the things! What was your favorite part/parts of this chapter? How many of you saw that resolution coming? You know I've been hinting about that mirror since book 1? The dark mirror was actually referenced in passing a couple times in the first book, and several times earlier in this one too, and yes, I was sprinkling those little seeds of plot development from the start (I do that a lot as you may have noticed, so very many things will be brought up again mwahahaha). Now we know what Halea's visions were all about. Is Lord Anshar alive? What lies beneath the surface of the mirror? Is Rufus's arm going to be okay? What's going to happen to Uro and Favion? What are they going to do with Maven? So many questions and I might answer a few of those next chapter because next chapter is the final chapter of Blood Bound.

Please please pleases let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter. I would love to hear from you guys. Thank you so much for reading and for all the wonderful feedback you gave me on the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : Phew! This chapter! So many things! All the things! What was your favorite part/parts of this chapter? How many of you saw that resolution coming? You know I've been hinting about that mirror since book 1? The dark mirror was actually referenced in passing a couple times in the first book, and several times earlier in this one too, and yes, I was sprinkling those little seeds of plot development from the start (I do that a lot as you may have noticed, so very many things will be brought up again mwahahaha). Now we know what Halea's visions were all about. Is Lord Anshar alive? What lies beneath the surface of the mirror? Is Rufus's arm going to be okay? What's going to happen to Uro and Favion? What are they going to do with Maven? So many questions and I might answer a few of those next chapter because next chapter is the final chapter of Blood Bound.
> 
> Please please pleases let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter. I would love to hear from you guys. Thank you so much for reading and for all the wonderful feedback you gave me on the last chapter.


	31. Home

"Ow. Ow!" cried Rufus as Halea examined his arm in the castle infirmary.

"Wow, Varg, you did a good job at setting this break," observed Halea as she applied a cool plaster over the falcon therian's injured arm.

"I do know some first aid. I've stitched a few wounds and set a few bones in my time," he reminded with a gentle smile.

"He's a brute!" grumbled Rufus. "This is all his fault."

"Birds squawk too much. I apologized! And now you know to stay away from me when I'm angry."

Varg did feel bad, but he was anxious to leave and not in the mood for the falcon's complaints. The castle was strange, ugly, unnervingly empty, and reeked of countless unfamiliar humans.

"Behave, you two," admonished Halea, though she wasn't really mad. They were far from over with their troubles because they still had the issue of the impending doom of the Chaos Dimension, but at least, for the time being, Lord Anshar was safely trapped within the mysterious dimension that lay beneath the surface of the mirror. The Dragon Lord could no longer do them any harm, and, most importantly, she and Varg were together.

They had flown into each other's arms and kissed passionately at being reunited. So powerful was the sensation of love that flowed through their bond that every other care in the world melted away in the wake of their shared joy. But, as euphoric as that one moment felt, they couldn't forget where they were, and Halea's mind quickly turned to her grandfather.

Uro and Favion were also in the infirmary, lying on neighboring beds after Halea had procured the keys from Maven's still unconscious body and freed them from the dungeons. Uro had wept for joy. He had given up hope of ever seeing his granddaughter again, but she seemed well, and he had been astonished when she explained the situation with Lord Anshar, the dark mirror, and the remarkable vision of Tiamet.

"The Goddess! You saw her! But no one sees Tiamet!" he cried. He wanted to fall to his knees right then and pray in relief and gratitude, but Halea encouraged him to wait until she got him out of the dungeons first.

"I don't think Tiamet will mind if you wait a moment to give her your thanks until after I get you to the infirmary," she argued.

Uro was sniffling and nursing a cup of hot medicinal tea while wrapped in a blanket. Aside from a cold that he caught while imprisoned in the dank dungeon, he seemed well, if not flustered. She was grateful he wasn't in worse shape after what he'd been through, and she was glad that Maven hadn't been unduly cruel to her grandfather while imprisoned.

Favion sat in quiet relief. He was in good health, though a little shocked to discover that Halea and her shifter husband has successfully captured Lord Anshar. He would have never believed it possible, but it would seem the gods did work in mysterious ways. He was grateful to be rescued even though he never would have dreamed a shifter would come to their aid. He was familiar with the wolf-man because he met him once before when he had been on assignment in lycan territory, but he had no idea who the other fellow was. His biggest relief was in hearing that it was Kalee who successfully summoned Halea.

"Kalee's alive?" he asked when he heard the news. "Is she really okay?"

"Yes. She was worried about you," assured Halea, and her words warmed the cleric's heart and filled him with longing to see the redheaded priestess once again.

It wasn't until Uro entered the infirmary that he first laid eyes on Varg, and their meeting came as quite a shock to the old cleric.

" _So that's him!_ " he thought. " _I've never seen a fiercer looking shifter_."

"So you're the one who married my granddaughter?"

"Married? Of course not, she's my mate," corrected Varg, who felt a prickling sense of discomfort as the shriveled old human sized him up through his thick glasses. He had that same unpleasant scent of decay as the man who owned the cloak, and he wondered if it was a shared trait of all elderly mortals. Varg was only used to seeing elder lycans who were mostly physically indistinguishable from young lycans, but he had never seen such an aged human before. How old was he? Younger than Lyall by more than half, but he looked so frail in comparison. What little remained of Uro's hair was white, and his skin was thin and hung loosely in many folds creating deep lines on his face. Did they all look like that when they got old? Would Halea have looked like that if he hadn't shared his life-force with her? Even if she had a million lines on her face, he wouldn't love her any less, but he didn't like to think of her not sharing his long life beside him.

Uro nearly choked on his tea at that revelation, and Halea quickly jumped in to explain.

"Grandfather, marriage is a human institution, therians take mates. It's actually far more of a commitment than a marriage, and, yes, this is Varg. Varg, this is my grandfather, Uro."

Varg offered a curt nod as Uro scrunched up his face in displeasure.

"Just see to it that you treat my granddaughter well. She is a favorite of Tiamet and don't think you wouldn't have to answer to me if you ever…"

"Grandfather!" cried Halea, who could see the veins beginning to protrude on Varg's neck as he struggled to control his simmering anger that struck her through the bond like the hot flame of an inferno. "Varg would never do anything to harm me, I can assure you. We're very happy. In fact, we would like it very much if you would come live with us."

"We'd what?" shouted Varg at a volume that reverberated across the infirmary.

Rufus and Favion looked on in amusement.

"Varg, please. I can't leave him here. Even with Lord Anshar trapped, I don't think it's safe in this city anymore, not for devotees."

"She's right" interjected Favion. "Public opinion is turning against the worshippers of Tiamet. Most people don't realize how substantial our losses have been or why our Lord turned on us. All they know is that the tears are increasing in number and it looks like no one is coming to seal them anymore, and demons are wreaking havoc all across the land, and nobody is keeping them in check. We're looked upon now as those who have failed or shirked our duty, and the powers that be in the capital city are starting to intervene. Pretty soon this whole place will be overrun with rangers, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

Varg groaned in frustration. "Very well. Because you're my mate's kin, I will allow you to come to our lands to live out the rest of your days in peace. But just so you know, I do this out of love for my mate."

"How magnanimous of you," Uro sarcastically remarked. "I suppose my time as a cleric has come to an end. No Lord to serve, citadel gone, castle half laid to waste, all of Tiamet's devotees scattered to the four winds, the king breathing down our necks, bumbling rangers coming to interfere, and the High Priestess locked me up, and what's worst of all, she broke my best tea service. There's nothing left for me here. I can worship Tiamet anywhere I suppose, and in my twilight years, I would like to be closer to my only living relation, even if I must live in the forest with a bunch of wild animals."

"Bunch of what?" growled Varg.

"Oh grandfather, you're coming?" Halea dared to ask, ignoring Varg's outburst.

"Not yet. Winter has just begun and traveling far in my old age does me no favors. I have a few loose ends I'd like to tie up here before I disappear to Tiamet knows where. In the spring, when it's warm again, if you come back for me, I'll be ready."

"But what about the rangers?" she asked.

"I can deal with them."

Halea hated the idea of leaving her grandfather behind again, but she could take comfort in knowing that with the coming of spring, she could bring him to the den where he could live out the remainder of his days with her. Varg was displeased with the idea, she could tell, but he would never deny her. Her grandfather was stern and difficult, but deep down, he was a good man, and she knew he loved her, and she hoped that in time he would come to set aside his prejudices and give Varg a chance.

Before they left, Halea scoured the abandoned infirmary. Thanks to her training with Batsuba, she was could easily identify most of the herbs they kept stored. Rufus was experiencing a low fever, but she was able to treat it as well as ease his pain and fight potential infection with the medicines that were on hand. She found gauze and linen to wrap his cast and even made a comfortable sling for his arm. While she was rummaging through the infirmary supplies, she noticed something that caught her eye – a stethoscope. It was hanging in one of the cupboards, perhaps left by the resident healer or a nurse.

Batsuba often seemed frustrated at having Halea as an apprentice because she didn't have a lycan's sense of smell, or hearing, but with a stethoscope, she wouldn't have to be impaired by at least one of her duller human senses. She felt guilty to take it but ultimately justified her decision to stuff it in her hidden robe pocket when she realized that Lord Anshar's castle would probably fall into the hands of the kingdom anyway.

#

Maven looked up through bleary eyes when she heard the groan of the door that entered into the dungeons followed by footsteps.

"Ah, so you're up," remarked Favion who couldn't help being a little satisfied at the turn of the tide.

"Where is he?" she asked as she placed her hand on her throbbing head.

"It would seem Tiamet herself has decided to intervene. Using her power through Halea, she opened the portal to the dimension beyond the dark mirror and trapped Lord Anshar inside. I don't know what lies within that dimension, but Halea said that Tiamet wanted her to save Lord Anshar, so I can't imagine he's been harmed, though I don't think he's getting out of there any time soon."

"She did what? Where? Where is the mirror? You can't keep him in there!" cried Maven as she jumped to her feet and winced at the unbearable pain in her head.

"If Tiamet wants to keep Lord Anshar locked up some place safe, whether for his own good or for ours, then it's not your place to butt in! You're going to stay down here until the rangers arrive. You helped him kill our own people, and you're going to answer for your crimes."

Favion was aware that her actions were mostly due to Lord Anshar's negative influence, and that she should be harmless without him, but she had aided him in his wicked deeds and would have to answer to the law. Before Halea and her companions left, they locked The Blade That Cuts Through Worlds in Lord Anshar's abandoned study and took the mirror with them for safekeeping.

"He's the only one who can save us!" she argued, seemingly unperturbed by her own predicament. "He has to be set free, or we're doomed!"

Favion shook his head pityingly before turning and walking back up the stairs and out of the dungeon.

"I know Halea took it. She trapped him, and she took the mirror. Tiamet, why? We need him!" she called out, but no one answered.

#

"We should smash it," grumbled Varg as they neared the lycan territory. Just the thought of bringing that accursed object into his lands filled him with revulsion. He had suggested destroying the mirror after he discovered the dragon had been captured within, but Halea warned him it wouldn't be possible.

"The dark mirror isn't just a mirror. It's a portal into another dimension, but it's a different place than the Chaos Dimension. Tiamet gave it to Lord Anshar ages ago for safe keeping. Those who share the power of Tiamet can close tears, but I never knew she could also grant the power to open dimensions as well. It won't break like a real mirror. It shows no true reflections. Besides, Tiamet asked me to save him; that means there's hope. There has to be!"

"He's still mad though. I don't know if being trapped in another dimension – again - is going to be much help with that," added Rufus.

That was still a problem. Halea kept the mirror covered and guarded it closely, but she didn't know what to do with it. Tiamet had helped her to capture Lord Anshar, but she still had no idea how to save him, and it weighed heavily on her mind.

" _What do you want me to do, Tiamet? I still don't understand, how can I save him?_ " she silently prayed as they continued toward the den.

The next morning they heard howls in the distance and Varg smiled in relief.

"We're home," announced Varg as he watched a band of his warriors race across the western hunting grounds towards them.

Lyall, Aatu, Faolan, Hemming, Daciana, and Lycurgus greeted them.

"Praise the gods for your safe return," exclaimed Lyall who bowed his head in reverence to his alpha.

Naturally, they wanted to know everything about their battle with the dragon, but Varg insisted they return to the den first. When they arrived at the den everyone poured out to greet them.

"Welcome home, Wolfmother," cried Ralphina who hugged Halea with one arm as she held Bardolph on her hip with the other. "Everyone's been waiting for you and Varg to come home. Faolan and Aatu wouldn't stop pacing the vantage point looking for you, and even Lycurgus was more worried than he'll admit."

"I've missed everyone so much," Halea confessed. "It's so good to be home."

Ulrica appeared, with Daisy toddling along at her heels, and embraced her Wolfmother in relief at her safe return. Even little Daisy was quick to raise her arms asking Halea to pick her up, and Halea was more than happy to oblige. Never before had she felt so much warmth and love from so many.

Mama Dragon and Kalee came down to the common area when they heard the commotion.

"Rufus!" cried Mama Dragon in joy and relief at seeing her adopted son. She rushed to him and nearly would have crushed him in her embrace if not for the sight of his injured arm causing her to stop at the last moment. "What happened?"

"What? You act like you've never seen me with a broken arm before?" he replied before kissing her cheek and hugging her with his one good arm.

After Halea and Kalee hugged each other in greeting, Halea assured her friend that Favion had been set free and that he was alright.

"He seemed like he was really frightened for your safety. He was so relieved when I told him you were okay," explained Halea.

"Really?" she asked with her blue eyes aglow, but she quickly tried to compose herself when she realized how overjoyed she had allowed herself to get. "I mean…that's sweet of him."

Halea could guess the nature of her friend's hesitation, and it saddened her because she knew what it was like to live with an oath that allowed no room for love. She secretly wondered, with the state they were in if such oaths even mattered anymore.

After greeting Mama Dragon and many more lycans, Halea heard the voice she had secretly been looking forward to the most.

"I see the gods were with you, both of you," said Batsuba who appeared as if she had materialized from thin air. Varg and Halea were overjoyed to see the elder once again.

They both hugged the old healer whose dark eyes glittered with unshed tears at the sight of her alphas. She had prayed to the wolf gods every day for their victory and safe return, and it seemed as if the gods had answered her prayers.

"And what have you brought with you?" she asked as she curiously glanced at the strange object tucked in Halea's robes close to her chest.

"Trouble," remarked Varg. "There's much to explain."

Halea nodded her head in agreement, and Batsuba didn't broach the subject again for the rest of the night. Instead, Varg and Halea chose to take comfort in the friends and pack members who had gathered around them. Neither knew what the future would bring or whether or not their world could endure the Chaos Dimension for much longer. Halea didn't understand what the Goddess wanted from her, and the threat of the crow's prophecy still weighed heavily on Varg's heart, but for that one night, they tried to push such concerns from their minds. They were together; they had battled the dragon, together. They had overcome a great obstacle, and though there were many more, they knew they could accomplish anything as long as they had each other.

#

Halea shivered in her heavy cloak as she followed Varg through the snow. The winter had grown colder and the days were so short that any moment spent in the sun was a treasure.

"How much further?" she asked.

"It's just up ahead," he promised, and he reached back to take her hand and help her up a steep incline.

Every day she spent with him was precious. Every memory they made together she locked deep in her heart. She could still feel the call of the Goddess whenever she looked into the west, her spirit in constant unrest because the fight was not over. The tears seemed to be appearing less frequently, but they were not gone, and she knew it was only a matter of time before things got worse again, before the convergence came to destroy their world.

Every day she prayed to Tiamet for answers, and every day she was met with silence. The golden eyes no longer appeared before her but she knew the Goddess wasn't done with her yet. _His_ voice had begun to call out from within the mirror, and she knew that Tiamet had given her a mission, and her success or failure could spell either their doom or their salvation.

When they reached the top of the ridge, they were able to look down on the den below. Halea remembered when they were children and had spied on Varg's home from a distance. Now, they were looking down on it from the eastern side.

Varg pointed out to a strange string of dots moving subtly among the white landscape.

"Reindeer. Passing through. I'll get you a big one tomorrow when the hunting party goes out," he boastfully promised with a wide and pleased grin.

"I know you will. Thank you," she replied, smiling even though she was actually quite tired of eating animal hearts, but she would never refuse her mate's little tokens of love.

He did not consider himself the victor against the dragon because he had not fought alone. The wolf gods had given him the strength and skill to fight and survive, and the Dragon Goddess had intervened on their behalf, but most importantly Halea had been by his side. She was his true strength; the only woman worthy to be his mate. He would have gladly laid down his life for her, challenge any foe, submit to any god, and endure any hardship.

Since the day he faced the dragon, he often wondered if the gods were appeased, if he had passed their tests or if his trials had only begun. The danger wasn't over; he could smell it in the wind, and feel it in the restless wolf stirring within him.

She was still in danger.

Would the gods take her from him? Would the crow's prophecy inevitably come true?

He couldn't allow himself to think of a future without her. Every time he slipped she looked at him with concern in her eyes, and he had to remind himself that failure wasn't an option. He would find a way, and he would protect her and together they would have a future.

"And there," he said as he wrapped his arms around her and turned her to the south-west. "Beyond that thick grove; that's where those trees I showed you are, where I'll build our house when spring comes."

"Can I help?" she teasingly asked.

"Nope," he replied, and they laughed together, cherishing each other's warmth as they looked down on their home.

#

Edmond stood on the snow-covered steps of the Weldison asylum as he watched Master Uro slowly climb out of the carriage. The old cleric leaned heavily on his staff carved with sacred runes in the ancient language. What had been his weapon in his youth was his prop in his twilight years.

"Thank you for coming, Master Uro. How did you know where to find me?" Edmond asked.

"Codeon told me you're always here. Come; let's get out of this cold before I catch my death."

"It's not very pleasant in there."

"It's not very pleasant out here," grumbled Uro who made his way up the steps and through the doors of the asylum.

Many of the patients had been assembled in the group room where it was easier to keep an eye on several at once while the nurses were shorter staffed due to so many taking winter holidays.

Once inside, Uro caught the scent of the place and heard the screams and tortured ravings of the patients and shook his head sadly.

"Poor wretched souls," he muttered. "How is Dean?"

"The same, Master," replied Edmond.

"I was able to secure a much more powerful barrier around that tear. Have you received word if any priestesses can seal it?"

"No, Mater Uro. No one can be found. Many are still in hiding. I only know of Senior Priestess Gwen in the capital, but I'm afraid she's very preoccupied with the council."

"No. We can't impose on her. We need her where she is. Halea knows the location of several of our priestesses. She is coming to claim me in the spring, and I can ask her to send aid then. I'm going to go live with her and that big brute of a shifter she's married...or mated or whatever they call it among their kind. The barrier I put in place will hold until then, and we can only pray more tears will not appear in the meantime."

"Halea," a small voice spoke.

"You're going away to live with Halea? With the lycans?" asked Edmond in shock.

"Halea," the small voice repeated so softly that the two clerics did not hear.

"As soon as I get the last of my affairs in order. I have my misgivings about living with a pack of man-eating shifters, but I can't deny that Halea seems happy and safe with them and I suppose that's what matters most."

"Halea," quietly spoke the voice.

"I will always be devoted to Tiamet, but my time in Antherose is over. Halea is all I have left in this world, and I've missed her since she went away. A man of my years should spend his last moments with his kin."

"Halea," the voice spoke again, and this time Uro heard it and turned to see several patients sitting in chairs along the wall. Disregarding the voice, he turned back to his colleague.

"Favion has agreed to stay in Antherose with me until Halea comes and then he will most likely join you and Codeon. Almost all of the clerics have left the city. Well, I best be on my way again."

"Thank you for coming all this way, Master Uro. Please travel safely on your return."

"Halea," the voice called again.

This time both Uro and Edmond turned to the row of patients.

"That's odd. They rarely speak any coherent words, if they speak at all," Edmond explained.

Uro stepped cautiously towards the patients, trying to determine who spoke. He thought he heard his granddaughter's name, but perhaps he imagined it.

"Halea," came the soft voice of a woman who sat hunched over in her chair. Her hair was a mixture of dark blond and gray, and it covered her face.

Uro's elderly heart raced as he slowly approached the motionless form.

"Halea," she said again, and with a trembling hand the old cleric reached out and gently moved the unkempt hair away from the face of the woman, and he gripped his chest as his heart shuddered at the sight before him.

"Tiamet, no! No, it can't be! It can't be!" he cried.

"Master Uro, what is it? Do you know this woman?" asked Edmond.

"Where? Where did she come from? Do you know where she came from?" he implored as he grasped Edmond's robes in an attempt to steady himself.

"I…no. I don't know anything about her. They found her a few weeks ago. She was just abandoned on the steps of the asylum. No one knows where she came from."

"Oh gods, if Halea knew, it would destroy her. She can't know! She can't!" Uro wept as he wrung his hands in grief.

"Know what? Who is this woman? Do you know her?"

"Yes. Yes, I know her," admitted the elder cleric who wiped his eyes before sinking into a nearby empty chair.

Edmond looked into the vacant hazel green eyes of the woman who slumped in the chair, and again she spoke; "Halea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note from your humble author** : And that's it, folks. That is the end of book 2. DUN DUN DUN! Who is the mystery woman? What will happen to Lord Anshar now that he's trapped in the mirror? How will they stop the convergence? What about the prophecy? Is Halea's grandfather going to move in with the lycans? Is Varg ever going to build that damn tree house? All these questions and more will finally be answered in the exciting 3rd and final book "Wolfmother."
> 
> When will Wolfmother be released? 3-4 months. I know. I'm sorry. I've never made you guys wait before, but the last few months have been a doozie for me, and I am using this gap between book 2 and 3 to edit book 2, write a short story, write a ton of blog posts, and get ahead on the writing for book 3, so when I do start posting it, I'll be able to guarantee a steady chapter every two weeks. I'm sure I've spoiled some of you guys on that reliable consistency, and I want to ensure you get the same reliable consistency for book 3.
> 
> Don't worry, book 3 will have all the answers, and I promise to make it an exciting and fulfilling conclusion to Convergence.
> 
> Please please please let me know your final thoughts on book 2. I am dying to hear if you guys enjoyed book 2 or not. Did you like it better than book 1, worse, the same? I'd love to know.


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